


Siren of the Sea (Part IV)

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Siren of the Sea [4]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Pirates, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bathing/Washing, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fantasy Transformation, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Lots of OOC behavior, M/M, Mystical Creatures, Non-Consensual Violence, OOC Konoe, OOC Rai, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Pirates, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Role Reversal, Sex with Mystical Creatures, Sexual Slavery, Sirens, Sirens Suck the Life out of You, Spanking, Threats of Violence, Transformation, Trauma, Unrealistic Sex, Violence, Yikes, dub con, dub con spanking, more power struggles, power struggles, really these guys have more issues than Vogue, sexy spanking, therapeutic writing, writing as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: In this AU, Konoe finds himself abducted by a pirate slaving ship, captained by the terrifying Captain Rai. His ability to sing is inadvertently discovered when trying to help a sick young fellow kitten Ciel, who hasn’t dealt with the capture well. His comforting Siren’s melody was heard throughout the ship and catches the captain’s eye. Will he be able to hold his own, against this fearsome seafaring devil?Start with Part I,II+III if you're new to this series.Part IV begins after Rai has confessed to killing Mink and the two former crewmembers responsible for Konoe's violent rape and assault. They are trying to mend their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Murderous Joy - Captain Rai](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/391787) by foxyladycpz. 



“Come, let’s have you soak in the saltwater pool,” Rai’s deep voice whispers in my ear.

I have been awake for a while now, surrounded by a cozy warmth, not wanting to move from where I am. Once his breathy whisper stirs the fur in my ear, my fuzzy consciousness starts to clear, and I realize I’m being held securely in Rai’s arms. The warmth I feel is his fur—his fluffy tail is covering my bare body, and it feels silky and soft against my still-sensitive skin. 

Ah—I’m still not wearing any clothing, and neither is he. Yet I'm the only one flushing in embarrassment. _How does this cat remain so calm?_ Is it a difference in experience? We’ve been together for about two weeks, but my shyness is going nowhere, rooted firmly in my personality.

“Your ears are pink,” the rumbling continues lowly. “In fact, your face is red. You’re still so shy around me.” After a short pause, in which I feel both my embarrassment and my blush deepen, I hear, “I don’t dislike it, your timidity.” There’s definitely amusement in that tone of voice.

I wish we would change the topic of discussion to anything else. Sitting up, I look around for something to wear, _anything_ with which to cover myself, and I see nothing. _What the hell?_ Is he doing this on purpose? Searching the room, I see Rai’s black and blue leathers, two of his robes, but nothing of mine. What is this?

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, so there’s no particular reason you need to be embarrassed or timid.” I didn’t realize his voice could get any deeper, but it does. The hair on my nape raises slightly, but I don’t turn my head to look at him. I wish he’d drop this already. He’s moving around behind me, probably getting dressed.

“Haven’t you noticed other cats watching you, admiring your body? Ah, perhaps you’ve lived alone for too long. However, I certainly notice. It isn’t only for your song, and it isn’t only for your scent.”

 _Enough_. I bite my bottom lip and clench my fists while I sit on the bed, staring down at my hands, using my tail to cover myself. Why is he talking about this? I refuse to look at him. Suddenly, however, I feel a presence before me. I keep staring at my hands.

“What’s this. You seem awfully quiet this morning. Are you unwell?” He is deliberately provoking me. “Are your wounds bothering you? You seemed fine last night—in fact, you seemed _more_ than fine last night.”

“Don’t say another word!” I finally open my mouth, raising my blushing face and meeting his eyes. I’m not at _all_ surprised to see a gentle curve on his lips. He is teasing me, and it’s irritating. He’s deliberately trying to get a rise out of me. 

He reaches out to my ears, stroking them. “These ears turn such a lovely color when you blush. But your behavior truly baffles me.”

“Ah,” I fail to stifle a pleasured sigh when his tongue suddenly licks my pierced ear. “I just don’t have the bold nerves you do.”

“In a sense, your body is much more honest than your words,” he replies quietly. “You certainly raised your voice in pleasure quite loudly last night.” The words are spoken directly in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine and into my tail, which tingles in delight at the memory. Wait a minute! He’s grabbed my tail lightly and is brushing just the tip, reminding me of the past indulgence. As if I could forget! My sighs and gasps from last night still echo shamefully in my ears.

Another pleasured gasp escapes my lips, which I am too late to suppress. “ _Stop it_ —now, you’re just making fun of me!”

“But I’m not. I truly enjoy you.” He continues his caresses, despite my protests and squirming. “Your body certainly indulges in such delights, and hearing such a provocative voice from those innocent lips and seeing such a heated gaze from your artless face—it’s an amazing contrast.”

My ears are truly on fire now. “ _Don’t!_ Not everything needs to be spoken aloud!”

Glancing up at Rai’s face, I see he has a delighted look in his eye and a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’s nothing to be upset or angry over, little one. You are truly captivating. I was amazed.” I feel a tug at the base of my tail, and he licks my ear again.

“But come, let’s get these wounds cared for. Bardo mentioned a salt water soak would be good for your body. No one should be there at this hour, so we can have privacy.”

“Why would we need privacy?” I ask suspiciously, as Rai wraps me into a cotton yukata. It’s grey with a navy blue wavy pattern, and it matches the one he is wearing.

“Who knows?” He flashes his eyes at me quickly, and I gasp. The mannerism is unexpected and flirty—very unlike Rai.

“I won’t be doing anything untoward in public,” I announce boldly.

“Won’t you?” Rai says, and I feel like a doll as he dresses me. To prove his point, Rai quietly whispers in my ear, “Konoe, kiss my cheek, like the obedient Siren you are, won’t you?” 

I find myself standing up on tiptoe, reaching my hands up to Rai’s face, and kissing his cheek. I really would like to bite that nose, too, while I am there. A small growl builds up in my chest when I back away—I feel no more than a puppet!

“Of course you’d _never_ do anything untoward in public,” Rai agrees, looking right at my face, raising his eyebrows.

“You...” I can only say. I let him finish dressing me, grumbling to myself, frightened by what he has planned. I can’t afford to make any ill-tempered exchanges, however, for fear of what he might make me do in revenge.

After handing me a small towel, saying, “Let’s go,” and he scoops me up in his arms.

“Ah—wait—I can walk!” I protest.

Rai mutters in my ear, “The soles of your feet are torn up, Konoe. Let me do this for you. _Relax_.”

With his command, I relax, and he carries me out the door to the hot springs.

The room is warm and comforting, and Rai sets me down on a bench. I’ve never visited a place like this, but he seems comfortable here. The room has high ceilings, almost all glass. Lots of morning light cheerfully streams in from above. The space is currently empty, except for the two of us.

Rai strips off his robe, wrapping the towel around his waist for modesty, and helps me do the same. I haven’t been around much salt water, still, the smell is nostalgic—I think the Siren approves. In fact, I get an uplifting feeling, a surge in my chest when the brine hits my nose. I can scarcely wait to put my feet in the water, though it’s been ages since I’ve been immersed in so much water.

Back home in Karou, during the hot summer months, I would often bathe in the cool river and in the freshwater pond. I learned to swim there, and I enjoyed it. However, this is a different feeling. The water seems to be calling to me—calling to something deep within me, and I had an almost anxious feeling even before we entered the room.

Wrapped in a towel, Rai sets me on the edge of the pool, and the steamy saltwater spring fills my pores. The sensation of dipping my toes in is fulfilling—like coming home after a long journey. I’m confused by the feeling, but I embrace it. I continue immersing my body in the warm water—and it feels even better than being wrapped in Rai’s fur.

I close my eyes and immerse myself completely.

I was expecting the water to sting—at least a little. I have welts on the soles of my feet, my thighs, my ass, and my back, plus the injuries from the assault are still fresh. But the water soaks into my skin gently, reminding me of being wrapped in song.

As I’m underwater, I feel a song bubble up from my chest—it’s a fresh song—something new and different, but at the same time, it’s an ancient one. I’m finally home—such a strange thought surfaces in my head. I’m purring happily, content, feeling good, warm, safe and protected.

Then, a strange sensation vibrates the core of my body. The purr in my throat drops into the core of my being, going lower and lower into my waist, into my legs, and it changes into something more violent. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s definitely not a purr anymore—it’s more of a vibration. 

Also, it becomes painful, so I come up for air—gasping for breath, actually—because something in my legs is hurting me terribly—and I try to stand, and I realize I can’t because my legs won’t hold me like they are sewn together. My legs vibrate as well—that purring vibration has dropped below my waist into my legs, paralyzing them—and I realize they will not move. I feel rooted in place, and I can’t move.

Panic rises in my chest, and I try to lash my tail, and it too is paralyzed, rooted together with my legs. Then my body shifts in the water—I lose my balance—and I float. _What is this?_ What is going on? I try to stand and I can’t—I can’t move my feet now either—in fact—I have no sensation in my feet or toes. It’s like they are bound tightly together with my legs and tail. When I move my tail or legs, it’s just a single movement, like I’m wrapped tightly in a blanket.

The panic in my chest turns to terror, and another pained gasp comes out of my mouth. Breathing rapidly, I am afraid to look at my body, but somehow, I _know_ what I will see. Currently, my eyes are squeezed shut, but I open them now, looking down at my lower half.

I’ve become part fish. 

I can't help the noise that escapes my mouth in shock. Below my belly, my legs and tail have merged into a shining golden fin. The scales shimmer in the light and are iridescent, sparkling like jewels. It’s an amazing sight, but looking at it is like a dream and makes me feel a little dizzy. I tentatively wiggle the tip of my hooked tail—and it’s still hooked at the end with beautiful, sheer fins at the tip, shimmering in the light.

The strange tail quivers, making a circle of water ripple around me, and _that’s_ when I feel a stabbing pain between my shoulder blades, causing me to cry out loud in both agony and fear. _What is happening to me?_  

I reach behind my back, right between my shoulder blades, and I hear a horrible creaking sound, and I feel two protrusions that most certainly were _not_ there before. They are growing bigger very quickly, sprouting out wide on either side of my body—longer and wider than my arms. Before I can catch my breath, I cry out loud in pain, bending my body at the waist. I squeeze my eyes closed—this is a _nightmare_. It _has_ to be—this _can’t_ be happening! My ears flatten against my head in terror—what is _happening_ to me? Then, I feel an odd prickling sensation on those protrusions—over and over, like being pricked with a thousand small needles—and I scream again at the feeling—so painful—what is that? And then I hear something soft, like wind rushing past me, and the pain suddenly stops. All at once. I take a deep breath. Is it over?

When I finally dare to open my eyes, I’m curled up in the water, with something soft and pale surrounding me now—and at first, I think Rai is huddled next to me, but it isn’t him. I'm surrounded by  _feathers_ —soft and fluffy feathers. I’m surrounded by thousands of feathers. They are white with golden brown tips—iridescent gold, and quite beautiful. I reach out and touch one, and I realize, I can feel them, both with my fingers and also, through the feathers themselves. The hair raises on the back of my neck, and for just a second, I think I might throw up. What the fuck is this?

The shock of the touch makes me flinch, and my wings open wide—and I realize: Shit! I have _wings_! Giant wings have sprouted from my shoulders, and I can actually _move_ them. I do move them, hesitantly, slowly, and they make almost no noise—they are nearly silent, like those of an owl or another raptor. But the pain between my shoulder blades is gone. Their size—shit—the size is gigantic.

A _bird_? Am I a bird? I _must_ be dreaming. My body quivers and trembles, and I stroke my wings once more with my hand, and then touch a scale on the tip of my crooked fin once more. That is _definitely_ my body. I can feel the feathers and the scales—just like the feathers, I can feel each tiny little scale. This is me—my body—or else a  _very_ strange dream.

“What the _hell_?” I hear a deep voice not far from me. That voice makes my heart fall to the pit of my stomach. Please— _let me have imagined it._

Then I realize it _isn’t_ my imagination. That voice belongs to Rai. He’s standing in the water within several feet of me, his mouth hanging open, staring at me.

_“What is this.”_

I tentatively splash my tail in the water, and I can control it, it seems. It feels so strange—but at the same time, it doesn’t feel _completely_ foreign. I have a feeling that this was once my original form, which is a strange feeling to have. A mermaid? Well, a merman? No—a mer-cat? But with wings?

Wait—do I still have ears? I try to scan the room for sound, and that works, and then I reach my hands to my head, feeling around on top of my head. I still have ears, and they still have fur. But what the heck has happened to my body? Was it the salt water?

“I—I,” I stammer, but I don’t know what to say.

Rai is staring at me, speechless. Is he disgusted? Is this the last straw? Will he finally throw me away now? I realize I am afraid of him abandoning me.

Looking at my tail, it is rather pretty, especially when it shimmers and sparkles in the light so bewitchingly, but it’s very strange. I’ve never seen any creature like the one I am. I’ve become a _monster_. Thinking that—I put my hands on my face, trying to feel if it has changed. Perhaps I’ve grown large fangs, but I don’t feel anything different. I think I’m the same. Me, only with wings and fish tail. _That's all_ , I think wryly. It’s _only_ a fish tail and wings, nothing to worry about. A small giggle escapes my lips. It’s like some kind of twisted fairytale. I still feel panic, and as much as he was talking earlier this morning, he is silent now. 

Then, I notice him approaching me in the pool, wading closer, little by little, and I drop my eyes. Is he going to tell me he’s finally had enough of this craziness? Not even _he_ could think I am worth this kind of effort at this point.

I lower my ears along with my face and wait for the bomb to drop. _Even my fishtail is crooked_ , I think, disgustedly, although—it’s a smooth hook, and I wonder if it might help when I swim. I wonder— _swimming_ —I haven’t tried it. And then my feathers fluff up a little, and I wonder—can I _fly_? Shit!

I feel a strange sensation when Rai’s fingers brush smoothly along my tail fin—a buzzing vibration runs through me, and it feels strangely _addicting_ —and that’s just from his fingers alone.

“My gods—you really _are_ a Siren.” Rai’s voice is low and reverent. Wait—what? _Reverent_? That can’t be right. I must be mistaken.

“I _never_ thought you'd show your true form. I’ve only read about the ancient form the Siren takes—half fish, half bird—but I’d _never_ thought I’d see it myself. Has this ever happened to you before? Have you ever seen your tail before? Your wings?” I feel his fingers on my wings, so gentle, so tender. 

“N-no. I wonder, though. Maybe it’s the salt water. I felt it calling to me,” I answer quietly. His hand wanders along the sparkling scales of my tail—and what a weird sensation that brings, sending shivers up my spine, making me ruffle my feathers automatically, and it’s even stranger to watch. Is this really my body?

“Can you feel that?” Rai asks, surprised. “You feel sensation here?” He strokes again. “Amazing. It’s beautiful. You are... breathtaking.“

My lowered ears perk up at his words, thinking I must have misheard. He doesn’t think I’m monstrous?

“Konoe, you are one of the wonders of this world, and somehow, you are here with me. I never thought you would reveal your true form to me. I am truly honored.” Rai’s voice is so serious. I have to look at him now.

Shocked, I look up at Rai’s face, and the expression I see there is like nothing I’ve seen before—not even the first time I sang for him. He is entranced, infatuated, enraptured. But what’s so strange is that he is looking at _me_ with that expression.

I feel another pleasant shudder running through my body all the way through my tail, and the vibration shows in the water, a small ripple forming, just from the gaze in his eye. Why does he look at me like that? Is he that desirous of me? Something in my heart feel like it gives way—something shifts—and I move into his arms, and my wings cover him when I come close to him, closing around him in the warm water like a cocoon. 

He makes a strange sound—it’s kind of a stifled sigh—but he sounds pleased—when my wings touch his back.

“They feel so soft—like your ears,” he whispers. “My I touch them, too?” 

“Yes,” I answer, keeping my voice soft. I can’t believe he hasn’t thrown me away. There’s a part of me that would like to stay right here forever. Just like this—in his arms, letting him hold me, my strange new wings wrapped around him.

“Are you all right? That looked excruciating.” His voice is full of concern, and his hands are softly, gently stroking my feathers—such a strange feeling—but so full of tenderness it brings tears to my eyes.

“I’m all right now, but yeah.” It was painful. I shiver, remembering the sound of flesh creaking—and then, I feel a little sick. Is this really happening? Is this reality? Is this what my body looks like now? What the hell? Shit—I feel a little panicky. “Wait—you said this is my true form—do you know something about it? Have you read about this? What do you know?”

Words tumble from my mouth quickly, and I am still shaking. I am unsure, unstable, and terribly afraid.

“Hush, now,” Rai’s commanding is spoken into my ears, falling over my like a warm blanket. “Calm yourself, Konoe. _Relax_. Don’t overreact. Breathe deeply. You’re going to be fine.”

I immediately obey the command, feeling a little better—and I am thankful that this large silver cat is with me now. He’s truly my salvation. The wings— _my_ wings—relax around his body.

“I have indeed read about the true form of the Siren. It’s said that you are half fish, half bird, believe it or not, which is why you are irresistible to Ribika.” 

I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Irresistible to _eat_ , specifically, I think. Wait—what? _Am I prey?_ My mind freezes for a moment. I would then be the perfect meal.

“It hasn’t been documented thoroughly, but I’ve heard that Sirens are born in their true forms. It’s said they’ve assimilated to look like Ribika as the years have passed, and it isn’t known exactly when they assume their true forms. However, immersing yourself in salt water makes perfect sense. The sea is your origin, after all,” Rai’s calm voice continues neutrally, spoken directly in my ear.

“It’s said that your true form is much more powerful than your Ribika form—no one can resist you in this form.” He pauses for a moment, examining me with that clear blue eye, and I feel his hand brushing my ear. “I can believe it. There’s different something about you now. I have a feeling that if you sang in this form, I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

I shiver in his arms when I hear those words. I’m tempted to try it. I’m still hoping I can still switch back to being a full Ribika, at some point.

That’s when the door opens.

It’s Koujaku, wearing an open robe and a towel, and he’s brought along two members of his team Benishigure, both unknown to me, who look ready to relax in the saltwater spring.

To my surprise, I hear a fierce growl surround me. It’s quiet, but very low and fierce. It’s definitely Rai, and it vibrates deep in my bones. It’s a frightening—is he angry with Koujaku? But then, I realize why he is growling. There is a gaze emanating from the group at the door, a strange, aggressive gaze. It takes a moment, but I realize but that gaze is trained on _me_. It’s trained on my form—on my _body—_ my wings and tail.

I feel three pairs of eyes—I can actually _physically_ feel them—crawling over my bare skin and creeping over my surface the shimmering iridescent sheen of my tail, each of the scales slowly separating from each other, breaking underneath the water and rising above it, all the way down to my translucent fins. And then, the eyes travel on the soft folds of my wings above my shoulders, which currently surround Rai—the feathers fluff up individually, the gold tips sparkle brightly in the moon of light coming in from sky lights overhead, the white parts of the feathers fluffing out boldly and bravely, despite my trepidation.

I feel a shiver running down my spine from this predatory gaze. It’s exactly as it feels—they want to devour me—consume me from my tail to my wings, like a delicious feast. As cats, of course, that’s what I look like. But there’s something else, more sinister in the gaze as well, something more sadistic, that frightens me, and that makes me shrink against Rai. And it makes me _very_ glad he is the one here with me now.

He continues growling, quietly, but not moving aggressively. I fold my wings behind my back, as if to make myself smaller, but it’s far too late. I’ve already been seen.

“What the _hell_ is going on in here?” Koujaku’s voice rings out clearly, but he is strangely breathless. A thought rings in my head—I hope he has forgotten about his ability to command me. Perhaps it was a fluke? Maybe because I was drugged? I sincerely hope he has. He continues speaking. “What the hell _is_ this?” His voice sounds absolutely fascinated, much to my surprise. If I hadn’t seen the look on his face, I would have expected disgust or shock in his tone. 

One of the members by his side speaks up as well. He has short blond hair and looks slightly younger than Koujaku. “Red, I know you said something mystical was going on with your partner. But I had no idea _this_ is what you meant. _Holy_ shit.”

The other cat, with short chestnut hair, adds, “You’ve got to be shitting me. This is like the stuff of the legends. Is that a mermaid? A bird? What _is_ that? Some kind of _god_? What is he? Can we get a closer look? Can you get him to come a little closer? He smells so good! What is that _scent_? Is it honey?”

When his words are spoken, I glance up at Rai, whose growling gets a little louder. He stands in front of me. He’s upset we’ve been interrupted, but he attempts to speak civilly.

“Koujaku, we were just in the middle of something. I don’t suppose I could persuade you to come back in five minutes? Perhaps you could bring _Aoba_ with you?”

At his words, I gasp, knowing that something similar might happen to him—and I’m shocked he’d be willing to sacrifice Aoba in my place. My indignation shows in the movement of my body, and I’m not yet used to its form. My tail fin flips in the water, splashing up water behind me heavily—just like a cat’s tail would do—and my wings open widely for a moment. My wings are rather impressive. I wonder if they can actually carry me when I see them open like that. Somehow, I know they can—I can feel it. In fact, I bet they can carry more than my own weight.

Koujaku seems to have just noticed Rai, and shock registers on his face. He doesn’t want to offend his host a second time. He’s already offended him once—and recently—with that dreamy grooming incident yesterday. I can tell from his expression, as he glances down at his feet. Now, I know for sure that it wasn’t a dream, and I feel myself flushing again. Shit—they really were licking me like that? Why? For what purpose? For my scent? Do I really smell so strange?

My neck is hot, my ears are hot, my shoulders are hot—and I notice the feathers on my wings are strangely shifting in color. Oh, shit—you’ve _got_ to be kidding me! This can’t be happening! My fucking _feathers_ blush? What the fucking _hell_!? I watch in absolute horror as the white of my feathers _slowly_ shift to pink, as they fill with blood and light up with an obvious iridescent sheen. They don’t _all_ change, I realize—only the feathers closest to my neck and head, giving my wings an ombré effect. If they weren't my wings, I'm sure I'd think they were lovely. But because they are mine, and they show my embarrassment in such an obvious way, I am so ashamed I feel almost nauseated.

I am _really_ ashamed that my emotion shows so openly—and on my wings of all things. It’s bad enough to blush obviously on my face. But at least I can hide it in my hands or by looking down. But these wings—they are huge! They are bigger than I am. If I wanted, I could wrap the wings around my body and cover myself in them. They are taller than me—so they are at least six feet in height. And the span of them is well over twelve feet when fully spread, I’d guess. But even if I covered myself, you could still see my emotion on the outside, based on the pink color!

I just _hope_ Rai doesn’t notice the change in color—and just then, I notice he is staring directly at my face, and then glances at my wings. And he even stops growling for a moment. When I hear the rumbling stop, I realize he’s noticed. I just hope he won’t say anything. _Please_ , just don’t _say_ anything. Please. _Please_. I can’t stand the shame. 

I look at his face. And instead of opening his mouth, I feel a hand touching one of my feathers, and it feels cold to the touch, and it sends a shockingly indecent shiver through my body, and I inadvertently let a lewd sound escape my lips.

“You feel _hot_ ,” Rai whispers in my ear. “ _Irresistible_.”

I continue to look at him desperately. _Please_ don’t say anything. Please. _Please_. I can’t bear this, and my eyes blur with tears.

His lips curve into a smile, and I feel him touch me again. With an almost imperceptible shake of his chin, he meets my gaze, and he briefly brushes my ears gently with his lips. Then he clears his throat, and he continues.

“Koujaku, I think you may find Aoba may experience some interesting effects when exposed to saltwater. I’d encourage you to discover them. Those, of course, are _yours_ to discover—just as these are mine. I trust you understand my meaning.”

A small pause passes.

The two members by Koujaku’s side are still fascinated by me—and so is Koujaku. I haven’t felt any of their eyes leave my body yet. It’s still creepy and uncomfortable, and I give a little shiver, almost as if to shake them off, which they see and acknowledge. I still suffer discomfort from their gaze and try to hide myself, but it doesn’t work very well. My body is too cumbersome; it’s simply too large. Even when I slink behind Rai, moving my upper body behind him, wrapping my tail fin around his back, my wings sticking out behind me—I’m so large. I used to be able to crouch down in any corner. And now, I’m monstrous. It’s such a strange feeling, just weird.

I’m aware Rai hasn’t persuaded Koujaku’s teammates to leave me alone when they step into the pool toward me, though Koujaku puts his arm out to try to stop them.

“Wait—stop! Keep your hands off him!”

“It’s fine,” the blond cat says. “I only want a closer look. This is a public pool after all, isn’t it? There’s no law I can’t bathe in here, is there? There’s just something so fascinating about him. Maybe if I get just a little bit closer, I can see what it is. He really smells sweet—it’s honey, I think—and something else, too—almost floral, I think. Red, is this was you were talking about, because, fuck, man! You were holding out!”

The cat with chestnut hair stays behind with Koujaku, just watching. The frightening longing remains in his eyes.

Fear bubbles up in my chest. I don’t know what to do, but I am sure I _don’t_ want Rai to kill anyone here—not in this public place, and not in this public bath—and _not_ for just looking at my true monstrous form— _if_ that’s what he’s thinking. The panic is starting to get to me in an angsty way. A song builds up in place of my panicky feelings, and I release it—but instead of a song and light, steam is released from my mouth at the same time as the light. It’s an iridescent mist.

A sigh comes out of Rai once my song starts, too, and I feel him shuddering around me—his body is shivering and shaking—is he in pain? I look at his face—and he looks all right. Just... he isn’t angry. There’s an awfully strange expression on his face—like he’s trying to control himself. But he looks pleased, relaxed, even. But he wants to control his facial expression for some reason.

I feel his hand come out and grab hold of my body—both of his hands, in fact, grab me, quite possessively. It feels good to have him holding me—one hand wrapped around my waist, and one around my neck. The one around my waist dips a little bit, feeling the scales around my belly button that weren’t there this morning—each one, piece by piece—and it’s a wonderful feeling, a little ticklish and a little bit exciting.

As the blond cat approaches me, I hear Rai growling louder, and I see his fangs bare. I _really_ don’t want him to shed blood, and I think my song indicates this. I realize right now that I am indeed a Siren. Rai can try to protect me with claws and fangs— _or_ I can protect myself as I have for thousands of years.

My wings open up to their full span and glory—shining in the light and iridescence. I am directly under the skylight, almost as if I have transformed here purposefully. I brush Rai’s hands away from my body. With my scales glittering majestically, I lift up myself into the air—effortlessly hovering above the water—flapping my wings quietly and majestically, as though this is something I’ve done for thousands of years—and perhaps, I have. Another strange thought goes through my head as well: perhaps I’ve captured and enslaved many cats just like Rai for many thousands of years before this as my partner, and I just don’t remember any of this. I wonder if I could carry him as well? 

I hover high enough over the water so that my heavy, glittering tail fin drips water back into the pool slowly, rhythmically, in time with my song—with the only the motion of my wings causing a slight disturbance on the water’s surface.

“It’s heavy,” I think of my drenched tail and fins, and also the sparkling water dripping from my wings. But they show no sign of tiring. I’m surprised. I wonder how long and how far I could fly with these wings? Could I fly to the ends of the earth? Across the ocean? Across the open sea? Surely, I would tire, but I could rest in the ocean for a while. Could I carry another person? Have I done such a thing before? I truly am a monster. Such strange emotions come over me when I think these thoughts. Who am I, really— _who is Konoe_? Am I really from Karou? Where is my _true_ home?

As I think those thoughts, and my song flows from my body, I look down at the blond cat in the bathing area before me, and he doesn’t appear just fascinated anymore. In fact, his expression has changed from simple fascination to obsession. I detect the following from his face, although he doesn't speak: “That tiny little thing can fly? Holy shit! What sort of strength does he have flowing in his veins, in his song, that he can have that sort of power? I don’t understand it. I’ve never seen anything like it. And that music—what is that? I can hear it in my ears, but more than that—it’s like it penetrates me deep in my heart, my soul, my bones—what is that? He’s violating me with that song! I want to touch him. Get down here! Come down—just the tip of your fin would be enough—so I know you’re real and not imagined! Come on—just a tiny touch!”

My fin flicks in distaste at his thoughts. I certainly do _not_ wish to be touched by this strange cat. It’s an odd request, and I reply with my song, loudly. Rai covers his ears and flinches.

The blond cat screams, and I realize I’ve hurt him. I’ve physically injured this blonde cat because he wanted to touch me when he shouldn’t—and my song has injured his ears. I see it from where I am drifting in the tall room. There is a small amount of bright red liquid dripping from both of his ears now—it’s blood—and he is holding his ears tenderly, shock registered on his face.

“You hurt me!” He yells at me, shocked.

“You can’t go grab-assing strangers indiscriminately as you please,” I sing back easily with my song, and he glares at me, wide-eyed. I don’t know how the words come across, but by his facial expression, he understands my meaning.

I didn’t know I had this skill—to injure a single bystander with my song without affecting any others. I glance at Rai below me, and he is OK, but restless. He watches me from below—it occurs to me that he is surprised to see me in the air. I wanted to save myself rather than relying on him for once.

My wings lower me back to the water’s surface, and I feel relief—such delightful relief—when I touch the warm water, and Rai's gaze pierces me. His speaks to me surprisingly sharply, “If this had been a real emergency, you would have failed. Do you know what to do for your own safety? We need to drill this into you at all costs, in all circumstances. You can’t play around in times such as this!”

I lower my eyes in shame at his scolding. I thought I’d done well, and I’m crushed to hear his scathing words. But I suppose he is right. We need to prepare for the worst. I agree with him. I could have done better.

Just as I agree with him, I feel something grab the tip of my tail, and I turn my head. The blond has my tail in his hands and is running his fingers through the iridescent fins roughly. It’s terribly uncomfortable and feels like a horrible violation—worse than if he’d grabbed my tail as a cat, and it makes me shudder.

“Stop it,” I say. “That hurts!” I turn toward him, giving my tail a shake, trying to free myself, but it’s useless. It does hurt—but it is also strangely stimulating, and I dislike it, coming from this cat. He is violating me. It’s far more stimulating than a regular touch. There’s a buzzing vibration that runs through my fins—the water conducts emotional energy from the other person, their emotions and intentions—and I can feel this cat’s intentions toward me. And his intentions are impure and selfish.

“Your fins are so beautiful—mesmerizing,” the cat says, hypnotized. I feel a strange sensation as I watch his fingers wander across my fins, as if this stranger’s hand is closing about my throat—though he hasn’t touched anything except my fins. Yet I desperately clutch at my throat, grabbing at an invisible hand on my throat, struggling to breathe, struggling to escape. I watch in horror as the blond’s other hand reaches out to one of my wings and gently brushes my feathers.

“Ah—my gods—no wonder they made no sound—they are as soft as they beautiful,” he exclaims, and a small chill runs through me as the hands run over my feathers. He notices my reaction and stops. “Wait. You can feel in the feathers?”

I don’t respond. I don’t want him to touch me, and I twist my body away, and my wings puff up to nearly twice their size. I try to look intimidating, angry, and upset. Why am I even bothering with him? Ignoring the suffocating vibe I am receiving from him—I know he wants to capture me, devour me—I deliberately turn away in an attempt to lift off into the air once more. Before I can, however, he grabs hold of a _single_ feather and tries to pull it out.

That sensation is _extraordinarily_ painful—akin to someone rip out a claw rather than having someone pull out a hair—and I scream in agony. My scream is _much_ louder than expected, and it catches Rai’s attention immediately. He appears at my side in an instant—I don’t know how he gets there so fast, like he was only a stride away. He grabs the blond cat’s hand, who grasps my feather, and he crushes it with his own hand.

I don’t know how Rai figures out where my pain is coming from so quickly—I couldn’t say a word over my agonized screams, and it isn’t obvious _what_ is happening—but the blond cat’s hand is easily crushed by Rai’s larger hand, used to heavy combat, used to wielding his heavy longsword, calloused and cruel. He doesn’t hold back, having no qualms about using its full force. 

His low voice growls quietly, over both mine and the blond cat’s shrieks of pain, “Let go of my Siren’s feather. It pains him. I will let go of your hand as soon as you do so.”

In a matter of seconds, I feel the tearing pain relaxing, and I stop screaming and my body only trembles. Only then does Rai relax his hand. Finally, the blond cat falls away from me. I notice there is fresh blood dripping from his ears. I wonder, did my screams cause that damage? The blond cat blubbers, “I only wanted a small souvenir. No one would have believed me otherwise.” 

“He is _not_ yours. Not a hair on his head, nor a feather on his wings, nor a scale on his tail. Understand, it was an honor for you to even _see_ him in this form. You should _never_  have touched him. That is all,” Rai mumbles, and I feel a smooth vibration from underneath the water touching my tail and then scooping me up.

I don’t feel ready to leave the warm water just yet—but I don’t struggle or protest. He just rescued me from unspeakable agony, and I’m a little tired from that pain, surprisingly. 

While I realize that this form may have some powerful benefits, it certainly has its drawbacks. _Even_ if I can fly, _even_ if my song is more powerful, my attraction is much more intense in this form. And the fact that I cannot be touched without severe repercussions to myself is something I need to be aware of at all times. My fuzzy mind is spinning with new information. And I’m confused by the emotions and intentions of the other cats in the room as well.

Even as Rai holds me, I feel his intentions toward me—and they are… _hot_. His hands seem to vibrate, buzzing and full of heat. I’m surprised when he carries me to the side of the pool. I watch him dress—he drops his towel away from his body—and he is proudly erect. I knew he was from just the touch of his hands, however. That heat.

His intentions are filled with possessiveness, jealousy, obsession—but also tenderness and something I recognize as love. I’m not sure, but when I feel him stroke my wing behind me, I can feel it.

I don’t want to be stuck in this form, I realize. It’s _too_ intense. My thoughts are a jumbled mess. They are disorganized. When I look at Rai’s face, I don’t _only_ see his face, I see his emotions. I see his _feelings_.

When I glance at Koujaku, I see the same. I see jealousy and envy—and confusion. And I see a memory there—I am _literally_ watching him remember touching me, he is remembering stroking my body yesterday in the bed with Aoba. A small shiver goes through my body at his memory and I blush, and he licks his lips.

“Stop it,” I say. “You have Aoba. He is yours.”

“What?” Koujaku looks up. “What are you talking about?” But he _knows_. I know he knows that I saw his memory.

Am I a magical being? Sirens are magical creatures after all.

Ah—I don’t _want_ this. This is _not_ something I asked for. This isn’t something I wanted.

“Konoe, come,” Rai’s low voice growls above my ear. Those familiar possessive hands reach underneath my body to scoop me up. I don’t wish to leave the pool, but I can’t disobey. And he wants to leave. I watch with a little sadness as the last of the saltwater drips from my tail fin. 

He carries my heavy body with ease. I can’t wear my robe with the new wings that have sprouted on my back, so instead, he drapes the yukata over my lap, carrying me bridal style.

“If you’re a magical creature, why don’t you keep the hallway clear till we reach our room, Konoe?” The words are whispered softly into my ear, and a song emanates from my chest softly.

I _could_ wonder what Rai’s intentions are with me, once we return to the room, but I already know. I know from his touch and from the look in his face alone. I _know_ what they are. His lips have curved up into a smile, and he looks _awfully_ satisfied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai get Siren-form Konoe out of the hot springs bath and back to his room for some much-desired alone time. This chapter is from Rai's POV.
> 
> Warning: There's some intercourse-ish stuff in this chapter, but it's a little weird. Probably not terribly triggering, but I thought I should slap a warning on here somewhere.

The creature I'm carrying in my arms can’t be the same kitten. It’s simply _can’t_ be Konoe. True, it shares his scent—his comforting sweetness—combined with something much more sensual. What I just witnessed was something utterly fantastical, unbelievable. Like the legends I’ve read about in my book collection, the Two-Cane legends, things that Ribika have long forsaken, I never thought I’d experience something like that with my own eyes. I can’t help holding him close in my arms, grabbing onto him a bit too tightly. Perhaps my hands are causing him a slight pain with their grip. I have to keep him to myself. He _belongs_ to me. _I_ discovered him all those years ago, _I_ invested years trying to find him again, and now, even (and _especially_ ) in _this_ form, he belongs to _me_.

Entering our room, I place him reverently on the bed and take a few steps back. My eye is drawn to him like a magnet—I can’t help admiring him. Rays from the morning moon flow in from the window, reflecting light on that perfect tail fin, which shimmers in an iridescent gold array. His scales sparkle like perfect gemstones. My hand feels drawn to the light, to that sparkling tail, along its entire length, feeling each scale moving separately from one another, like invaluable coins beneath my fingers.

The muscle beneath the scales shivers enticingly—exactly like Konoe’s body did last night, in its other form, after I’d tormented him slowly with my tongue and fingers—and my nostrils are flooded by his scent. It’s sweet like honey, but also floral—is it honeysuckle? Jasmine? Orange blossom? I can’t quite place it. It’s always been there—a flowery note floating subtly beneath Konoe’s natural scent—but now, the floral note is overpowering, and it’s making me salivate.

I’ve never been a cat who overindulges in the desires of the flesh—not ever. Even since reuniting with Konoe, I’ve fought to keep my desires in check, sometimes desperately, to keep them from overpowering me, to keep them from overpowering my rationality and my duty to my crew and my ship. I am _not_ a beast: I refuse to live like one. But that scent is slowly stripping away my carefully crafted rationality, making me _eager_ to cast my efforts aside.

Even the sight of his flesh shivering beneath my touch—his response to _me_ —is all it takes for a rush of desire to sweep up from my chest and overtake me in a single breath. It feels so _good_! I close my eye and indulge the feeling, if only for a moment. I’ll return to rationality in just a moment. When I inhale deeply, however, I remain inundated by his intoxicating scent, my body starts to sweat, and my will weakens.

When I open my eye again, I’m confronted by that innocent face—guileless, artless innocence—wide-eyed, he returns my gaze, watching me. He looks almost fearful as if he can read my emotions, as if he realizes how close I am to casting off the dregs of my rationality. A beastly urge bubbles up within me: I want to induce a _sound_ from those plush lips. I want to _watch_ his innocent face and listen to his lewd cries when he gives in to desire and sexual pleasure. I _long_ for it with my entire being—with such fervor I can scarcely breathe. Not even when I was last in heat did I feel this compelling passion, this intense yearning.

 _What is this?_ Magic? Am I bewitched?

Looking at the creature sitting—well, more like lying or draped—on the bed, I realize he _has_ to be magical. He glitters, sparkles, shimmers with magic. I saw him floating in the air as though it were natural. Flying—those wings—I yearn for the soft touch of those feathers. I reach out and remember that those feathers will show his emotion as well. I feel compelled to make them display his feelings _right_ _now_ , so I impulsively yank the yukata from his lap, knowing this will get the reaction I so desperately desire.

In an instant, a delicate blush forms on his full cheeks, causing him to quickly lower his face. He won’t meet my curious gaze, of course, and he attempts to close his wings to cover himself. But he’s too late. The flushed pink is already spreading—down into his chest and up into his ears. I lean back against the wall, watching with absolute fascination. I lick my lips, trying to contain the saliva building up in my mouth.

The base color of his feathers changes from white to a deep pink around his shoulders and higher—stretching all the way out to the tips of the wings. They must feel hot to the touch, and I imagine their silky texture vividly. The color matches his ears except for their iridescent sheen—they shimmer like opals. I find them absolutely _irresistible_. He literally takes my breath away while I observe him in this state. I’m finding it more and more difficult to breathe, and I am _not_ a cat usually affected by things as trivial as this.

He is showing obvious discomfort in his embarrassment and was shocked by my action. He is missing his cat’s tail, it seems, and appears to be wishing he had something to cover himself. Although—wait a moment—what _exactly_ is the anatomy of a fishtail? Is his changed as well? I become suddenly curious and realize I am staring. He catches my sudden interest and closes his wings around his lower half quickly.

“Wh-what are you doing?” His voice falters adorably.

“I think you know.” For now, I am only observing—but I don’t think I can hold out much longer. I reach out a finger and touch the very tip of one of his long wing feathers. The feather is indeed hot to the touch, and it shivers slightly in response to the touch of my cool finger. My touch sends a shimmy down the entire length of his wing, ruffling the rest of his feathers, sending opalescent pink, white, and gold light throughout the room like a crystalline light show. That was his response from a _single_ touch from the tip of my finger. What would he do if I _stroked_ his wing?

“You don’t dislike having your feathers touched,” I say softly. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Your hands are cold.” His voice is quiet, almost complaining, in his innocent child-like tone. He isn’t sure what he wants, but I’m fairly certain I can help him decide.

“I don’t believe _I’m_ the problem. _I_ just got out of a hot springs bath.” My voice is soft and low, and, taking a step closer to the bed, I sit down beside him, careful not to touch him.

I hear a suppressed, strangled noise—it’s very endearing. It’s almost a purring sound; however, it sounds like he’s trying desperately _not_ to purr. He wants me to touch him, yet he is afraid, overwhelmed, unsure, and completely  _adorable_. He is _asking_ for me to make him come undone, begging for it.

“What if it’s that your _feathers_ —or at least some of them, perhaps _most_ of them—that are hot?” I feel myself smiling slightly. I cannot take my eyes of those wings—those pink feathers ruffle so tantalizingly, mesmerizing, hypnotizing. He should stop moving them like that if he _really_ doesn’t want me to touch. My instincts are tickled now.

“No,” he insists stubbornly, his voice taking on a rebellious tone. “I’m _not_ hot.”

“But even your ears are”—and he doesn’t let me finish that they are so beautifully pink.

“Dammit!” The Siren bursts out loudly, opening his wings widely to their full breadth—surprising me and making my tail bristle. This creature is even larger than me with that wingspan—I’m shocked to see how large they are, up close like this. “I turn into a majestic mythical creature that no living being has seen in two thousand years, and my fucking _feathers_ blush!? What the fucking _hell_!?” His shimmering tail slaps against the bed wetly—sort of like a cat’s tail would, only with far more force, and it makes an impressive noise, moving the bed underneath us both.

My shock and surprise dissipate once the meaning of his words sinks in. A small chuckle bubbles up in my chest. I swallow it down desperately. Is he _embarrassed_? Really— _that_ embarrassed by the _color_ of his wings? Even though they are this beautiful?

Now only inches from mine, his eyes sparkle a fierce gold. Those aren’t tears in his eyes, are they? His cheeks are bright red, which coordinates well with his pink ears, tipped with golden fur. His formerly brown fur seems to have shifted to sparkling, shimmering gold on his ears. His chest is flushed pink as well—his nipples are erect and red, and the chain looped between them stands out incredibly seductively. I’m sorely tempted to lick at his nipples and bite them, but I restrain myself.

With his wings fully expanded, his arms out to the side in exasperation, I notice that the feathers start fading from pink to white just below his nipples. Each feather is tipped with gold, which is what gives him such a majestic look. His tail is currently coiled on the bed—and _that_ reminds me—I want to know more about that tail and its anatomy.

My fingers reach out to touch the translucent fins at the tip, and I realize the tip is hooked, just like his cat’s tail is. How _adorable_! That is one of my favorite parts of this kitten’s body, I realized yesterday. I’m terribly tempted to grab it with both hands and shove it in my mouth—but I resist that urge, too. Instead, I use the tips of my fingers to trail along the translucent fins on either side of the crooked tip. These are new additions. They quiver gently beneath my fingers, moving as elegantly as they would underwater, and I twitch underneath my robe when I see his body moving like that.

He’s watching my face so carefully, cheeks still pinker than pink. Is he _really_ ashamed? Or just shy? I really _adore_ the color of him. Looking down at the fins in my fingers, it dawns on me. His body is _made_ to be attractive to _me_ —he was made _for me—_ from the tips of his ears to the fins of this tail, from the color of his eyes to these blushing pink feathers, from the soft sound of his sighs to his sweet scent. For me, and me _alone._

Meeting his gaze once more, those innocent honey-colored orbs still stare at me—as if he sees through me. Is the kitten, Konoe, even present right now? Or is this being now fully Siren? Surely, that blush must belong to the kitten. Did he transform into a creature I would find attractive deliberately? From what I can recall in my currently hazy thoughts, these creatures have a long and sordid history of enslaving those they meet, and as much as I’d like to believe this is _my_ Siren, I wonder if that is truly the case.

Perhaps I have it backward.

What if I have our roles reversed, even all those years ago? Did the Siren actually _entrap_ _me_? I feel a dangerous sense of vertigo, which is immediately stopped by the Siren’s hand on my arm. I feel a delightful, vibrating sensation when he touches me. He tilts his head slightly to the left, not changing his expression at all, but I feel his other hand in my hair. It’s a gentle touch, and it reminds me of the child from back then, and a vivid memory flashes before my eyes.

Years ago, I’m in the forest south of Ransen, just north of Karou. I’d been running, senselessly, on my third day without nourishment or water. I was exhausted and resting when I came across the child gathering supplies in the forest. _This_ was how he first touched me. He first touched my hair like this. He was attracted to my silver hair, drawn to it. Perhaps it was splattered with blood—mine, my foe’s, I don’t know whose. Even then, I wore it long, though, in battle, I’d pull it back or up to keep it out of the way. I remember the soft touch of that tiny, defenseless hand, and a part of my heart melted, just like it has right now, just like it does each time I see that innocent face.

Each time I see the juxtaposition between this artless face and the excited gasps that I elicit from his lips—a part of me melts, just like back then, and it strengthens our bond. It strengthens that seal the child made on my heart that day.

Am I trapped? Am _I_ the one who is caught? Am I the _prey_? Have I been _bewitched_?

A sense of dread runs through me—and another memory flashes in my mind like an alarm: the blood dripping from the ears of the blond cat in the hot springs pool, his pained shrieking, holding his ears in pain, and the awful noise I heard from the Siren’s mouth. I shake my head at the memory.

The hand moves from my hair, and two small palms press firmly against my cheeks. I’m always struck by his stature. He is such a small cat. I always feel a little guilty, perhaps I’ve taken advantage of him when I feel his hands on me like this. Should I have chosen a cat closer to my own size? I couldn’t. I don’t think I ever even _chose_ him. I realize _he_ chose _me_. Perhaps _he_ has been searching for _me_. Has he been pursuing me?

He looks me in the eye, long dark lashes soft and innocently seductive. His glance is gentle.

Artless. Guileless. He _couldn’t_ have entrapped me. Could he? With that face?

“If that were the case, would you really mind?”

Did he speak those words aloud? I didn't see his lips move. Or did they simply enter my head?

“What would change? The situation would remain the same. _Accept_ it. Accept _me_. I’m _yours_.”

Once those words sink into my head, something shifts inside my chest. The fear slips out of me, and the restraint I’ve worked so hard to maintain falls away. That was _not_ Konoe. He may have Konoe’s innocent face, Konoe’s innocent blush, but the creature speaking was _not_ Konoe.

I reach out to the soft wings with both hands, feeling them shivering beneath my fingers—and the shivering turns to a tremble when I slide my hands from his shoulder blades to the tips of the wings. A beautiful repressed cry is squeezed from between the Siren’s lips. I think he may enjoy having his wings touched, and I long to touch them more.

I pull his body onto my lap—allowing that strange tail fin to fall between my legs, holding it, squeezing it with my legs and brushing it with my tail. I watch as the scales quiver in response to the soft touch of my fur, and the Siren purrs softly.

He’s currently facing away from me, and I want to take a closer look at these amazing wings. I watched them burst through his skin, and I wince a little as I touch Konoe’s shoulder blades, remembering the creaking of the flesh and his agonized screams. And then, I recall the vision of him hovering above the water while listening to his amazing voice echoing through the large hall as if flying were something he’d always been able to do.

My fingertips run across the feathers at his shoulders and down, and I watch them fluff up and turn pink, and then ruffle slightly. Cute. As I run my fingers down his wings, they shiver beneath my hands—just like the rest of his body did last night—and I’m _delighted_. I feel his tail quivering from my touch to his wings as well, and I wonder if the stimulation is too strong and whether he feels my desire for him.

I lean down my head over his wing and lick one of those hot feathers with my tongue, watching as his ears perk up.

“Ah!” His gasp is loud and sudden, unexpected, and his ears turn pink.

I don’t know if he liked it, but _I_ enjoyed that response. So I lick him again—this time, a longer stroke with my tongue, lightly nipping the feathers as I run the length of my tongue along the wing’s length.

He visibly shudders, sighing loudly. “N-no.” But it’s the innocent voice speaking, Konoe’s voice, the one that doesn’t know what it wants. I ignore it, repeating the motion, enjoying his shuddering sighs, watching as his wings get pinker and pinker, the white feathers nearly disappearing.

I can feel his tail squirming between my legs, trying to escape my grasp, but I don’t let go. Even the translucent fins on his tail twitch—I feel them flipping against my tail. And then, he starts to beg. I _love_ that voice.

“Rai— _please_ —ah— _please_ ,” but he isn’t telling me what he wants.

“I’m right here, Konoe. I hear you begging, but what is it that you want? You’re just saying _please._ It’s so wonderfully polite, and I love to hear that—but I don’t know what you want. Hmm?” I keep my voice soft and gentle, just like the touch of my tongue. I move my fingertips along the feathers of the wing I’m not currently tending with my mouth.

“Ah—gah—ah,” and he loses the ability to speak, which I love even more, and he leans into my touch, the wings starting to twitch and flutter on their own. I have to confess, there isn’t _anything_ I enjoy seeing more than watching this majestic, magical creature come completely undone in _my_ hands, by _my_ touch, beneath _my_ fingers, under _my_ tongue, helpless and at my mercy, completely out of control.

That’s when he starts to sing.

Like the song that came from his body in the bathing area, it rises in a mist—floating from his mouth in the form of an iridescent gold steam—only I’m close enough now to _taste_ it. It tastes of honey and smells of those flowers—definitely orange blossom. I’m hypnotized and thrown off my rhythm of tearing him to pieces—distracted by this melody enrapturing my ears.

When I see the mist, I smell it, taste it, and feel it, and then I hear the soft song—I am completely _surrounded_ by the Siren— _engulfed_ by Konoe. And it’s almost as though our roles are reversed. My heart leaps and falls—my stomach feels strange like I’ve fallen from a tall cliff—my ears fold back against my head.

But I’m not in pain nor am I suffering. This is an aggressively sensual melody, aggressively sexual. I am being taken—my ears are being fucked, my _mind_ is being fucked by him, the mist entering my body is fucking me—all from the power of his voice. I feel a flash of fear, since it’s unfamiliar and strange, and I hesitate.

Taking advantage of my hesitation, he twists his body around, freeing himself from the touch of my mouth against his wings, and he plants his lips on mine. The mist flows into my mouth, and it fills my lungs, and it flows out of my nose.

_What is this?_

I feel... euphoric. My mind goes numb with pleasure. My breath quickens, my heart thumps in my ears, and I feel his heartbeat pounding in my bones. The song is filled with desire. The nerves of my body become frayed and raw—vibrating to his tune, evening out with the sensual song he is weaving in the air. It feels like a caress—not just to my entire body, but to my mind and soul as well. When his tongue enters my mouth, my ears are caressed. When his wings cover my back, soft touches cover all my bare skin. The hair on my body stands up on end—and I’m drawn to him, I feel pulled toward him. The very cells of my being are attracted to this creature, yearning for him, longing for his touch, crying out for him, longing for the soft and strong vibration of his song.

He is fucking me with his song, and I am crying out for more.

I reach out both hands and wrap them around the Siren’s head, loosen my grip on his tail with my legs, and stretch out my body on the bed. He bears down on top of me, still breathing and singing into my mouth—that mist overflowing everywhere, leaving a fine, iridescent sheen all over my body, face and hair. It smells sweet, and it tastes sweet, and it sounds sweet, and it feels sweet.

I try to distinguish my hands and my body from the Siren’s, but really, when that mysterious mist and song engulfs me, the boundary between us fades. His song seems to erase the skin that divides us, the physical space that separates us. The differences between us—between our bodies and between our souls—is slowly eroded by that mist, and we meld into a single being. His magical powers flow into me and into the space that used to be a boundary—it’s hot and white and beautiful—like the stuff the stars are made of.

Light sparkles in the back my eyelids every time he exhales into my mouth, and with every beat of his heart, I relax a little more, joining my breath with his—though I’d be lying if I didn’t feel terror in the core of my soul. When I close my eyes, the light gets brighter and brighter, until I finally hear myself crying out—gods, what is this? Am I coming? The stars burst into white—intense ecstasy explodes into an incomprehensible climax, leaving my body shuddering. Then he seems to come as well, releasing a huge cloud of golden mist, which settles around our bodies like an explosion of dust into the air.

When I open my eyes, his wings, which were open up and flapping over me, are starting to relax, and his tail is settling soundly and heavily between my legs. I don’t understand what just happened—I feel like he fucked me, somehow, but I don’t know if he physically penetrated me—or if he did, where or how? Through my ears? Just my mind? Was it just the song?

But holy shit—that was amazing—and I’m now floating in the middle of a lazy afterglow with this heavy, purring majestic beast lying on top of me—an occasional shiver running through the length of my tail, ruffling up my fur. However, he props up on both his arms, suddenly poking my chest painfully with both elbows.

“Tch,” I hiss. “That hurts.” Mostly, it’s interfering with the amazing afterglow I’m trying to enjoy. I try to give those innocent eyes an evil look, but end up gently moving his poky elbows aside instead, unable to muster the evil glare I intend. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t _believe_ you gave me such a hard time about blushing.” His voice is quiet, timid.

“What?” I twitch my ears slightly, staring at his ears, waiting for them to start turning pink just from his statement alone. I feel another wave of delight running through me, realizing once again that this creature is indeed designed for me—for my enjoyment, for _my_ explicit indulgence. The warmth of that realization settles in my heart, along with the fuzzy afterglow sensation, and I feel a low purr in the back of my throat.

“I’m sorry?” I prompt, brushing against his ears and the feathers that blushed most heavily until just a short while ago almost casually, trying to speed up the process, just to see if I can get the blood flowing to them again. I also run a hand over where his ass would be, if he didn’t have a tail fin, that is. (Curiosity is getting the best of me again, I realize, and I keep my hand right where it is for a moment.)

I can, it seems, speed up the process, and I watch as he starts to blush once more.

“Ugh.” He flops against me, frustratedly pushing his face against my chest. He’s getting very warm, so I wait a moment before I lift up his face to examine it closely.

“Like now?” I ask helpfully. “But your wings match! You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? For my sake? Because you know I enjoy it. And I do. I _love_ it. I adore it!” I kiss his nose before he escapes my grasp.

He murmurs grumpily. Why did he bring it up, I wonder? I hear him mumbling under his breath. “Even my _wings_! How can _wings_ turn _pink_? I just can’t believe it! That's not at all majestic.”

Gods, he’s too cute for words. I think he does this on purpose. There’s no question in my mind now. He is _made_ for me, and he is _irresistible_. I don’t care if I _am_ his prey. Because he is _irresistible_ to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still Rai's POV--after that amazing Siren sex--Konoe has converted back to Ribika form. Rai is wondering what on earth to do with himself. Mostly fluff. It's high time for some fluff!

Even _I_ drift back to sleep after that last love-making session with Konoe-the-Siren if that is what I should call it—I don’t think a stronger cat could have resisted sleep after that much energy expenditure. Upon waking, I notice a significant difference in his stature. He’s soundly sleeping, but he’s converted back to his Ribika form, adorably trying to cover my body in the same position as his Siren form was when he fell asleep on top of me.

When he fell asleep, his blushing wings were spread open wide, covering me from head to my feet—and they are oddly _just_ my height. His fishtail rested snugly between my thighs. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his sturdy weight. Strangely, his Ribika body doesn’t have nearly the same weight. Does the Siren form absorb saltwater in its conversion? He can’t _create_ mass, so perhaps the extra weight evaporates with the water after some time exposed to air.

He looks exhausted now, sleeping soundly—and I mean, _soundly_ —on top of my body, his arms folded sweetly on top of my chest. His legs are still in their same position, snuggled up together with his tail wrapped tightly around them. That can’t be comfortable, but I wonder if that’s what it feels like to have them bound in a fishtail.

Curiously, I want to see that Siren form again. I have a feeling that there was that mystical intercourse we _had_ —in which the Siren overtook me—and then, there may also be another option. There _must_ be a way for _me_ to take _him_ — _if_ he will allow it. Is he such a trusting creature? Would he allow himself to be taken by another? Would he allow me to love him, gently, as I have in this Ribika form? The Siren accused me of wishing to dominate this form, but, after our last interaction, I realize I’ve been mistaken. I _do not need_ to dominate him. Whatever this creature desires—in either form—as far as sexual relations go, I am willing to provide. I’m _eager_ to try it.

If he wants to take me in this form, I will allow it. I will help him. I will—well, maybe I won’t _submit_ to him so easily. But, I’ll _go along_ with whatever he’d like to do. Especially after tonight’s _adventure_ , I’ll call it. That was... something else. Completely unexpected.

So his current body, much lighter now, is still wrapped up snuggly between my legs. I’m tempted to pull at least his tail apart from his legs or massage its base, hoping he will loosen it himself. I don’t wish to wake him, but he will be sore and cramped sleeping like this so soundly. I could, I suppose, slide one of my legs between his, and I may do that later, just to make him more comfortable, but he’s so cute sleeping like this. And—well—I’m rather enjoying the memory of that heavy tail resting there, between my legs.

I wonder—what _exactly_ was in there? What was he protecting? It felt like he didn’t want me to look too closely, or maybe he didn’t know himself. It was strange. My curiosity is burning ferociously. I just _have_ to know, and I have to know if it’s… fuckable.

Then, with those wings spread over me, he fell asleep face down on my chest. The warm, soft blanket of his wings covered me. I wonder if he feels like that when I cover him with my tail, so I use my tail to wrap around his back right now. He shivers just a little.

Brushing my hands lightly across his shoulders, they feel hot to the touch. They _burn_ —right where those protrusions burst from of his skin. I hope it didn’t hurt for them to disappear, as well, but I wonder if he will be sore when he wakes. Perhaps he needs something soothing against his skin. I could lick him, but that would mean I’d need to turn him around. I could probably do that easily enough if he keeps sleeping so soundly.

A shudder runs through my body when I remember his screams and the creaking of his skin—and I’m filled with guilt for desiring to see that amazing form again. I could never ask him to show me if it hurts him like that. Or if I do—I’d better reward him for it, and mightily. But still—he’d better not change forms for my sake alone.

I end up turning his body around in my arms, as much as I enjoy the feel of his body on me—remembering the way he felt in that other heavy form—and he groans a little but doesn’t wake. He’s always been a sound sleeper—except when he’s in heat and unsatisfied. And then, it’s anyone’s guess. I couldn’t even sneak out to use the head if I wanted.

This position gives me perfect access to his ears, too, as well as his back, but I start on his shoulders since these are calling for the most attention. It’s the least I can do. I carefully run my tongue along each of his shoulders, slowly. With each stroke, I’m reminded of those shimmering feathers, the shivering opalescent pink, white, and gold, sparkling in the morning light, and his absolutely luscious response to the touch of my tongue.

That’s _not_ what _this_ is. This is—this is _grooming_.

Right. _Grooming_. I’m soothing the heat beneath his shoulders. He’s in pain. This is to relieve pain.

Wait—isn’t saliva saline? Is there a risk my grooming will make those wings appear again? I can only guess. Wasn’t it the briny saltwater that caused his transformation in the first place? But I’ve groomed him before—and heavily. His body never changed before today. It must need to be natural saltwater, or possibly seawater.

What if he fell into the sea from the ship? Would he transform then? I mean, I’d _never_  deliberately push him overboard—but if something happened and he fell—would that majestic form appear once more?

Actually, if I'm honest, I _am_ considering pushing him over the side of my ship. _What the hell?_ Don’t I remember his agonized cries? He was _desperate_! He was in _pain_! But those wings were tantalizingly beautiful. And that tail! I’ve never felt so captivated by any creature in my entire life.

I run my fingers across his shoulders now, and they’ve cooled significantly. I feel a sense of relief. He must be feeling better, too. I move my lips to his ears, and a small, cooing sigh comes from his mouth—I see his lips moving from over his shoulder.

There—the movement of his lips—it’s captivating in the same way as his wings were. The shimmering tail filled with mystery, the shivering feathers blushing with emotion, and then, this innocent face—he still has the same, innocent face. Those lips—they are amazingly full, almost swollen-looking. Are they swollen like that from kissing? Was I kissing him too roughly? Did I bite him? Are they tender? Even as he sleeps, he quietly murmurs, his sighs entrapping me. They tickle my ears, enrapture me, capturing my senses, and I find I can’t resist. Even in _this_ form, with that voice—I can’t look away. I am drawn to him.

The more I consider, the more it makes sense. I’ve got our roles reversed. I’m sure _he’s_ the one who ensnared _me_. It’s complicated—he’s crafty—especially with that youthful, innocent expression of his. It has to be the Siren’s doing.

Do I flatter myself, believing I’m being pursued by this magical creature? Do I think too highly of myself, imagining I’m his chosen one, his prey? A shiver runs through my body at the thought of the word— _prey_.

I’m _no one_ ’s prey. I’m the _hunter_. I’ve _always_ been the hunter. I refuse to accept that role.

Yet—here I am, unable to leave. I’ve killed three men for his sake. Till now, I’ve never killed a person for any reason except my own satisfaction. Or perhaps a high bounty, which technically falls under my own satisfaction, I suppose.

Running my fingers through his hair, I lift up the messy strands, revealing the nape of his neck. He is vulnerable. The line of his neck right here—usually covered by his hair—it’s beautiful. His skin is pale and smooth, without blemish, perfect. I lower my mouth, kissing his skin, running my tongue along the silky texture, letting his hair fall around my nose, immersing myself in his scent—a warm, sweet scent with traces of orange blossom left from this morning’s romp.

His body slowly curls up when he receives my touch. This isn’t a part of his body he can reach on his own. His response makes his neck one of my favorite places to touch. It’s almost child-like—the way he curls his body in on himself like this—bending his knees, wrapping his arms around them, allowing his tail to wrap loosely around his body, curving out his back slightly. In this pose, it looks like he is offering up more of his nape to me. _Take it_ , his body says. _It’s yours._ Still soundly sleeping, another sweet sigh falls from his lips.

I should let him rest.

Changing form must be exhausting. He will probably need to sleep off the effects. And I can’t leave him—not now. Not after seeing the yearning on Koujaku’s face. Now, I have to concern myself with those team members, as well. Kou will probably be all right if Koujaku can be controlled. I have no doubt that as soon as Koujaku meets Aoba’s Siren form—if and when he does—Koujaku will find himself in a similar situation, and things will be much easier for me.

On the other hand, Takemoto—the blonde—he is another story. Despite Koujaku’s order to keep away, he seemed overly interested in my Siren—not that I can’t understand where he’s coming from, or that those feelings can be helped. But he needs to control his actions. I hope the Siren’s horrible screams will be enough to deter him from further aggression. In any case, until I can get Konoe back to my ship, I need to keep him away from Takemoto.

After I finish grooming his neck, my tongue wanders down his back—it’s such a nice curve—and I have to stop myself. I pull him into my arms when his body starts to tremble. He really needs his rest.

I’ve never felt the urge to touch someone as strongly as this.

Even now, curled up in my arms, his ears occasionally twitch, probably tickled by loose strands of my hair, and I lick them. I can’t help myself, and I find myself growing annoyed. I’m _trying_ to let him sleep, but he keeps shifting slightly in his sleep, making noise, small erotic sounds escaping. He’s responsible for the state I’m in—

No. I’m responsible for my own behavior, and it’s _appalling_.

I just witnessed not one transformation, but _two_. From Ribika to Siren, and then back again. Well, I didn’t witness the second one, but it must have happened in my presence. If he trusts me enough to transform in my presence, shouldn’t I let him sleep undisturbed as well?

Damn it.

His ears are still twitching, teasing me. Is it deliberate? I lick them again, trying to _make_ them relax and be still. I hear another contented sigh and finally, purring. His purr is so loud—especially for a cat his size. Shouldn’t his purr be proportionate to his small frame? It isn’t. It’s loud, and it sounds almost sticky—wet and sticky.

_Damn it._

The sound of his purring is another absolutely _irresistible_ thing about him, made for me. It’s addicting. I can feel it vibrating in my bones—and it encourages my own purring, much to my irritation. I don’t _like_ it when others have control over me like this. It bothers me.

I sigh.

I don’t suppose it can be helped. I’m here now, and so is he. So I might as well bear with it. I nuzzle his ear contently, still somewhat irritated.

He is a stupid cat, for making me behave this way. Both of us are _unbelievably_ stupid cats. Resigned to my own stupidity, I close my eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Konoe's POV--still in the aftermath of the weird Siren/Ribika sex. Pillowtalk fluffiness with some explicit language.

I’m back to my usual self when I open my eyes, and surprisingly, I feel much better. Like—I am back to normal, maybe even completely healed! I wonder if it was the conversion process. I feel _that_ much better. I don’t want to say anything, because it might just that the incredible soreness in my shoulders and the stiffness in my legs and tail has overtaken every other sensation in my body, and maybe I still am really messed up down there from the assault and the residual achiness is just covering it up. I should probably have Bardo check me out later. I flinch when I remember those wings bursting out of my flesh like that, the creaking sounds, and the way it felt, that pain—and I shudder.

But _then_ —there was—there was… _what we did_. Afterward. In the bedroom. I am pretty sure we had sex. Some kind of weird, mystical sex, during which I fucked Rai. Is that what _actually_ happened? Did he let me fuck him?

Well, maybe he didn’t really  _let_ me. My Siren form sort of _overtook_ his body.

I didn’t _rape_ him, did I? A bolt of fear rushes through my body, and I almost sit up in shock. No, it was consensual. I’m sure of it. It had to be.

Wasn’t it?

As I’m lying here, curled up in Rai’s arms in my usual position, I realize this _isn’t_ how I fell asleep. He must have moved me. I went to sleep on _top_ of him, my giant wings covering his body, my tail resting in between his legs. And I did that deliberately. I didn’t want him poking around at my tail. He had this really disturbing look in his eye, every time he looked at it—even though I _just_ fucked the shit out of him. We fucked till he couldn’t _move_. I mean, he _must_ have been exhausted. I'm sure I left him well-fucked and sated. I’m sure of it.

Oh, my gods. Is that _really_ what happened?

Did I fuck _Rai_?

Holy shit.

The captain of the pirate ship? I think about the first time I met him: I was cowering in the floor of his cabin, he was towering over me, smirking down at me, whispering to me of the “fun” we’d have together in a dirty, seductive tone. I’m sure _that_ wasn’t what he thought he had coming.

The same captain who pierced my nipples and my ears to show that he owns me? My nipples tingle when I think of the piercing, and Rai's desire to own me.

The same captain who “claimed” me, demanding a public performance of oral sex on the deck of his ship? Ugh, I can't even imagine that incident.

The same captain who belted my bare ass in front of his entire crew, just to teach me some kind of ridiculous lesson? A little shiver goes through my body thinking of that belting. Is it pain? Pleasure? A little of both? I'm really fucked up either way.

The same captain who purposely worked me up before walking into a public bar, knowing I was in heat, to deliberately get me to release my scent to a roomful of strangers? What was that even about? Showing me off?

_Did I really fuck him?_

Another shiver goes through my body. I know that indeed is what happened.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that being in my Siren form definitely has its benefits. I can’t keep the smile from my face. If that’s what it takes to obtain that kind of power, then I don’t really mind the pain of growing wings. I’d _definitely_ do it again—and maybe it won’t hurt so much next time. I’d be willing to suffer through the pain again, if it meant I can fuck him like that. That was... amazing. And it was really fun, too.

I remember the look in his eyes as he took in my Siren form—like he _had_ to have me—and then, when it changed, like he was willing to let _me_ have _him._  Actually, he was suddenly saying, _take me._ And then,  how it felt to completely overpower him—and… my gods! Amazing.

I feel something twitching in my lower half again, and I’m feeling hot and sweaty, aching, just like I was when I was in heat. Shit. I feel like I could go again right now!

Is the heat still not over? Am I not done yet? Ugh. I need to calm the hell down. I take a deep, calming breath.

Suddenly, my stomach makes a loud growling sound. How embarrassing! Shit.

“Oy,” I hear a deep voice behind me. “It sounds like you’re awake, and you’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Well, converting from one form to another takes up a lot of energy,” I mutter quietly, refusing to look at the source of the voice.

I’m gently turned around in Rai’s arms, and the silver cat tilts my face up to look at him. I don’t want him looking at me right this minute—not till all these dirty thoughts have cleared my mind, at least.

“Is _that_ what used up all your energy, you think? Conversion?” There’s a slight smirk on his face.

I try not to blush, but just the low, sexy way he says it brings heat to my face. I know he is doing this on purpose, but I can’t help it. Arrrgh!

“Your face is red.”

“At least I don’t have my pink wings anymore. You’ll have to watch my ears to judge my current degree of shame,” I look away from Rai’s face, miserably.

“What? I _love_ the fact that you blush so easily!”

“Why? It’s annoying,” I mope.

“It’s adorable. And your wings—shit—they were _amazing_ ,” Rai’s voice sounds very strange—strange enough so I feel pulled to examine his face a little more closely. “The way those feathers shimmered like that—they were the most beautiful wings I’ve ever seen.” 

I’m stunned to hear him say this. Is he being serious? Is he teasing me?

“It’s like that body—your Siren form—it’s like it was _designed_ to be attractive to _me_ ,” Rai says, almost accusingly. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“What? Did I do _what_ on purpose?” I’m a little surprised at his tone.

“Your wings, for example—the way they blush like that—and their size. They were the perfect height to cover me. Didn’t you notice?”

“Well, yes, but maybe that’s the size they need to be in order to carry my weight,” I suggest. “That fishtail is surprisingly heavy.”

“And what about your  _tail_?” Rai asks.

I’m quiet for a moment. I’m immediately suspicious he brought up my tail. I look at him questioningly. “What _about_  it?”

“Well, it was terribly mysterious.”

I don’t say anything. I just look at him.

“It was beautiful, the way it shimmered like that in the light.”

I still don’t say anything.

“The colors, they reflected so beautifully in our room, like a light show. Didn’t you notice? It was more gorgeous than all the jewels I’ve ever seen—all the gold I’ve seen—all the treasure I own. And I have a _lot_ of treasure.”

“I’ve never seen any treasure,” I say.

“I’ll show you sometime,” Rai says, casually. “But back to your tail—it’s like you _knew_  exactly what I would find attractive, and your body changed into something I couldn’t resist.”

“But I _don’t_ know what you find attractive, and I didn’t _make_ myself change, nor do I have any control over my shape.” I’m a little offended he would accuse me of such a degree of manipulation.  
  
“Well, I think you _do_ know, perhaps at least on a subconscious level, and I think you know what I find mysterious.”  
  
“That’s the second time you’ve used the word 'mysterious.' It was just a _tail_. What’s mysterious about a fishtail?” I ask, though I think I know _exactly_ what he’s thinking, and I wonder if he’s actually going to _say_ it.

“Well, I’ve eaten lots of fish,” Rai goes on.  
  
_There it is._ He’s actually going to _go_ there. You’ve _got_ to be _kidding_ me!

“And I was wondering, is your tail built more like a fish, or like a dolphin, or like a shark?”

“I don’t know about _any_ of that. In Karou, we didn’t get fish. I mean, I barely got to eat meat! It was landlocked, except for the freshwater pond, and there was no fish in there,” I decide to play totally dumb.

“I am talking about your anatomy. I saw you legs and tail were bound together—when you converted back to this Ribika body”—he brushes his hands over my ass, rubbing my thighs and tail as well, and it feels shockingly nice—I try desperately not to respond to his sweet touch, “I saw that your tail was wrapped snuggly around your legs. Your fishtail was even hooked at the end, just like this tail is. I bet it makes you a _mighty_ fine swimmer.”

I’m insulted he’d bring up my hooked tail, and I flick it in irritation, but he captures it in one of his hands. He brings it up to his mouth and licks the tip, which _completely_ takes me by surprise. An indecent sound comes out of my mouth, and I hiss.

“Stop it!”

“What? You  _know_ you like it. You like it a _lot_.” He gives me an evil smile. He licks it again, more slowly this time, seductively, even when I try to wiggle out of his grip. “I mean, you _really_ like it.”

“Let go!” I grab my tail with my hands and snatch it away from him.

He gives me a hurt look, but it looks like he’s teasing me. And then he continues.

“So I was wondering—I saw you fly, but I didn’t see you swim. Aren’t you curious about swimming? Don’t you wonder how fast you can swim, and if it’s easy for you?”

“Maybe. Why? Would you want to see that form again? It didn’t frighten you?”

“It was _beautiful_ , Konoe. I mean,” and his voice softens to something I don't recognize. He sounds almost _desperate_. He reaches out to tug the chain in between my nipple piercings, “I _adore_ this form, too. And I would _never_ want you to be in pain. When those wings burst out of your skin, it looked like you were in agony. So don’t change just for my sake. And _this_ form,” he runs his hands along the sides of my body—from the tips of my ears down to the outside of thighs—and a shudder like I can’t believe ripples through me, accented with another completely indecent noise, which I completely fail to suppress (and he smiles at my response—he _is_ doing this on _purpose_!) “ _this_ form is _perfect_ , too. I _adore_ this form.”

He leans over me suddenly, trapping me beneath his body, long silver hair sweeping over my chest, taking my breath away.

“I have decided I was mistaken. Early on, I may have indicated that I liked or needed to be in charge of activities in the bedroom. However,” he kisses my mouth softly, and then moves down my body as he continues talking, drawing his claws, using them to trace the outline of my body, “I _adore_ you. I want you to be _happy_. I want you to discover _all kinds_ of things about yourself, and about your body, your desires. I want you to be able to explore whatever you wish when we are alone together. And so,” he runs his claws across my naked skin, making shiver after shiver run through me and gasps leak out of my mouth, “ _If_ there is anything you’d like to try that we have not yet tried,” his claws softly brush my belly, making my breath hitch, “anything that _you_ have not tried,” his claws run along the line of my waist and I sigh desperately, “be it in _this_ beautiful form or,” his claws trace the curve of my hips, “your larger Siren form,” his claws daringly dart down to my bare knees and move upward, toward the inside of my thighs, ever so slowly, ever so carefully, making me shudder and gasp.

“Rai!” I cry out. “Stop!” But even I know I don’t really want him to stop his caresses.

“As I was _saying_ ,” his voice stays even and husky, and he keeps his eyes trained on me, as his claws have reached the insides of my thighs and slowly trace my balls, and ever so carefully run up the outside of my now completely erect cock, “If there is anything you’d like to try and haven’t tried, you should feel free to attempt it.”  
  
_What_? Is he saying what I _think_ he’s saying?

I grab his hand quickly. I can’t handle that touch right now—it’s too arousing and too damn distracting when he’s saying something so important!

“Wait—what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying I’ll submit to _anything_ so easily, but I am saying I will play along if it’s something you desire. I’m flexible. My need to ‘dominate,’ as the Siren called it, is not as great as I thought it was.”

He leans in close to my face, his hair sweeping over me, and I’m immersed in his wonderful scent. It drives me insane when he does this. I feel completely surrounded by him. His hand is palming my cock, which isn’t exactly helping my current insanity.

“Whatever you want to do, I’m game. This morning was surprisingly _amazing_. I was blown away—I had _no idea_ what I’ve been missing.”

Oh, my gods. He takes my lips and palms me again, almost roughly—pulling a groan from my mouth at the same time.

Then it occurs to me—he must have a reason to be telling me this now. Why this sudden change of heart?

The captain of the Murderous Joy, submitting to me in the bedroom?

Wait. The thought bursts through, even through this passionate kiss, through his wonderful scent and that amazing silver hair—but something bothers me about this. Why now?

And then—I realize what it is.

“It’s _my tail_ , isn’t it?” I ask, mumbling through the kiss.

He pulls away. He looks at me with an innocent look on his face and takes my tail in his hand.

“What about your tail? I _adore_ your tail. It was _made_ for me.” While keeping his eye on me, deliberately to distract me, he takes a long, slow lick at the very tip of my tail, the hooked part, and then sucks at the end, sending a delightful shudder up my spine.

I let out an absolutely indecent groan in response and nearly admit defeat—except then, I grab my tail from his hands, and look at his face once again.

“Not _that_ tail.”

When those words leave my lips, I see a smirk on Rai’s lips that he cannot hide, and he flops down next to me on the bed. I was _right_! I _knew_ it! It’s my fishtail.

I climb on top of him, straddling his waist, and pin him down with my elbows on top of his chest.

“Tch—pokey elbows,” he complains. He moves them aside gently.

Then I notice something I have never, _ever_ seen, and something I will probably never see again. On Rai’s cheeks, there is a faint— _very_ faint—pink blush. It’s only slight, and if I hadn’t been looking for it, I never would have noticed. But it’s most definitely there. I can see it clearly in the afternoon moonlight.

It’s enchanting.

“You”—I cannot keep the shock out of my voice.

“What is it.” It’s the not-question again. He looks at me, expression soft and surprisingly gentle.

“You—you are _blushing_.” Mine is an accusation.

“I do not blush.”

“You most certainly do, and you are blushing right _now_. It’s because of my fishtail, isn’t it? You want to know if you can fuck it, don’t you? Is that why you have said all this? Is _that_ what your change of heart is really all about?”

Rai looks away from me— _embarrassed_. He’s actually _embarrassed_. Rai—who talks so openly about sex—and anything else, for that matter—who can walk around boldly in a room naked and is never ashamed, who wakes the morning after _proud_ of any bite marks, scratches, and vocalizations—is _embarrassed_.

It is the most _adorable_ thing I’ve ever seen.

I think my heart is going to break into a thousand pieces. Tears prick my eyes.

In a quiet voice, I hear the following words:

“I cannot stop thinking about it. The way it shimmered in the light. It was _tantalizing_! Each scale shivered beneath the touch of my finger. I want to know what would happen if I licked each scale, if I cared for each scale like I did the fur of your beautiful Ribika tail. Its musculature is so different from anything I’ve ever seen. And then—I can’t stop fantasizing about it—is there—is there a place inside your tail—a secret place—somewhere just for _me_ —some place sized just for me?”

He turns his face to me, the faint blush is still there, the child-like look vanished. Now, his face and voice are filled with passion.

“I cannot get the thoughts out of my head. It’s like you were _made_ for me, to tempt me, to drive me _wild_. I wonder what would happen if we were to have physical intercourse in that form, in that way, would I go _crazy_ with desire? Would I go crazy with _pleasure_? Whatever song you sang to me—I’ve _never_ experienced pleasure like that before. If I were to _take_ you in that form—could I handle it? To be allowed to take such a mystical creature—the power to do that—if you would permit me—I might go _insane_ with the thrill of it.”

He frightens me a little when he speaks to me like this, but his words move me, too. They touch my heart.

“All these years, I have believed I was searching for you. I thought _I_ was trying to find _you_. But I think”—his hand reaches out to my face, touching my cheek, “I think now, this innocent face captured me back then, many years ago. I believe you, or the Siren, ensnared me, just like the legends say. I believe you’ve captured me. I am your prey. I may _say_  and pretend you belong to me, but truly, _I_ belong to _you_. And I cannot leave. I can’t get you out of my mind.”

His arms pulls me closer to him.

“This morning—I don’t know _what_ kind of magic that was. But now, I know you will _never_ leave my side. I won’t allow it. I have never killed another person for the sake of someone else. I’ve only ever killed for my own satisfaction. But for your sake”—

“Wait,” I say. “Stop. I don’t wish you to kill for my sake.”  
  
“It’s for your protection. Konoe, I don’t think you realize how easily you capture those around you. I think you are unaware of your effect on others, even still.”

My mind is suddenly thrust back to the memory of the belt on my ass, and I can almost feel the licks as I remember it. And actually, just as I'm remembering, he brings his hand up to my ass as well. There’s just a slight smile on his lips.

“You _do_ learn very well with your body, don’t you? But understand, I've meant every word I said. If you want to try anything, I will do my best to help you. I may not be a totally submissive participant, but I will do my best. You may have to help me along with your song here and there, however. I’m sure the Siren can help you if needed.”

“Rai.” I simply say.

I really cannot believe my ears.

I knew it. I was _right_ about his obsession with my fishtail.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After emerging from their leisurely morning activities, Rai and Konoe grab some food in the dining room, meeting the other cats. Konoe is a little touchy--perhaps a bit touched out and irritated, but mostly confused by some of his feelings, and quite annoyed when Rai spills the details of his transformation to the others. Konoe gets annoyed by Rai's teasing and returns to their room on his own, realizing his hot head was probably at fault.
> 
> He has a run-in with Takemoto, however, before Rai returns from lunch.

I manage to get out of the bedroom relatively unscathed, joining the others for a late meal. We’ve wasted the entire morning in the bedroom. My face and ears are flushed pink by the time we emerge for food.

I’m _starving_. That transforming really drained me of energy. Rai follows me to the dining room—he’s hot on my heels, I notice, practically touching me. The entire way down the hallway, he’s looming over me, hovering in my space. Is he just being protective? I don’t know, but it’s _bothering_ me. Just before I slide open the door to the dining area, I stop abruptly, stick my butt out behind me a couple of inches and sure enough—and I bump into his legs. He’s standing _way_ too close.

His hands come down instantly, one grabbing my tail and the other my hip. I feel his hot breath in my ear, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to whisper something nasty to me. An anticipatory shiver runs across my shoulders. _What the hell?_ Since when do I _like_ hisdirty talk? It’s nothing but _embarrassing_!

“I’m _starving_. I have such a hankering for fish. I just can’t stop thinking about it, and _something_ just reminded me.” His voice is low and teasing.

A small gasp comes out of my mouth, and I try to squirm out of his grip, but he’s got a firm hold on me.

“What’s the matter? Change of heart? You’re the one who bumped into me, aren’t you?”

There’s a definite mischievous tone in his voice, and the hand on my tail sneaks around my waist. He pulls me in close, and I can feel he’s hard— _really_ hard. Didn’t we _just_ do it a few hours ago? Is this why he was sticking so close to me?

“ _I’m_ not having any problem. It feels to me like _you’re_ the one with the problem. I’m just here to _eat_. You’re in my _space_ ,” I snap, trying to sound annoyed, but I end up sounding a little breathless instead.

Just then, the door to the dining room slides open, and I find myself standing face to face with Bardo. He looks at me, up and down, raising his eyebrows. Gods, this couldn't get any worse!

“Jeez, can’t you two limit that behavior to your room? I’m not sure you’re aware, but when you do that, your Siren's scent becomes rather strong, as well as _terribly_ distracting to everyone else around him, Rai,” Bardo scolds. I notice he has a smirk on his face, and his eyes linger at my waist and hips. Shit. I’m hard again, too, and the silk of the yukata I’m wearing doesn’t hide it very well. “I could smell your scent from the dining room.”

“I didn’t do _anything_ ,” Rai insists innocently. “I was just walking along behind him when he suddenly backed up into me. I can hardly help it. He’s _awfully_ hard to control.” He lowers his voice slightly and speaks into my ear. “He should probably be taught another _lesson_.”

I let out a surprised gasp at his comment, which Bardo can’t help noticing, and he laughs. I feel Rai’s hands moving from my waist to fondle my ass, but they are out of Bardo’s sight. He grabs the base of my tail firmly, making it fluff out, and I’m shaking it wildly, trying to get out of his grip. He gently and casually rests his head on top of mine as though all this is all _my_ doing. 

“Come _on_!” I protest. 

“What? Let’s get some food. You get so _crabby_ when you’re hungry,” Rai says, still directly into my ear. I feel him smiling. “Just like when you get too tired. You’re so _fussy_.”

I give a little huff and walk into the dining area, and it smells great. My stomach starts growling immediately, and I clear my throat, trying to cover up the embarrassing noise. I kneel at an empty table, but before I can help myself to the food, Rai sits down next to me, reaches over, and scoots my body next to his, so our legs are touching. He fixes the place settings on the table, too, so mine is closer to his—also touching.

I give him a rather sour look, and he returns it with a pleasant smile. Sighing—really, I'm sighing in defeat—I reach out for two dishes of soup, putting one at his place and taking one for myself. I bring it to my lips and drink it, but he doesn’t take his. I remember this from our earlier meal here—he waited till the dishes were almost cold before consuming them. I wonder if he has the cat’s tongue. I want to ask, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. I wonder if he considers it a weakness.

As I enjoy my soup and other hot dishes from the table, I watch as Rai uses his chopsticks to help himself to some sashimi from the table. 

“Fish,” he says simply, looking at me from under long lashes. Holding a piece with his chopsticks, he places it on his tongue delicately, _oddly_ sensually, and gently closes his lips around it, consuming it as though it were something _other_ than a piece of fish. The look on his face is _not_ that of a cat eating a piece of fish. I _cannot_ believe I am watching him do this in the dining room, in _public_. The way he is consuming his food is utterly _erotic_.

A small gasp comes out of my mouth, making me choke on my food, which garners everyone’s attention. Bardo, Ciel, Aoba, Koujaku, Kou, and frighteningly, Takemoto all look my way as I’m coughing. 

“I’m all right,” I insist, waving my hand, once I’m able to breathe. I glance at Rai, who has picked up another piece of salmon and is holding it to his lips. I drop my eyes immediately. I _don’t_ want to see that again. But then, I find my head is straining to look up. I can’t seem to help myself. I watch as Rai’s tongue comes out and lovingly surrounds the fish, lapping it with great affection, and his mouth easily takes in the entire piece without needing to take a bite first, like I do. His pale blue eye winks at me lasciviously.

He’s doing it on _purpose_. My ears heat up, and I know I must be blushing. I look down at my hands for a moment, and when I look up, I realize that everyone is still staring at me, probably because I choked on my food a minute ago. And now I’m beet-red. I must look very strange. I absolutely abhor causing scenes like this.

“I’m fine. Excuse me,” I say, terribly shyly and embarrassed. I’m not sure how to direct their attention elsewhere.

“Have you all been able to enjoy the hot springs while you were here?” I ask, trying to get the conversation going and get the others to ignore my blushing face. I see Rai reaching out for another piece of sushi with his chopsticks, and I struggle to keep my eyes turned away, but I find myself unable to resist watching him eat. I _have_ to watch. I can’t help staring at him, even as I’m eating whatever happens to be in front of my plate.

“Koujaku suggested I should try it,” Aoba answers. “He said it was very pleasant this morning, after a short dip with Kou and Takemoto.”  
  
I look up at the table, noticing now that Koujaku, Kou, and especially Takemoto are staring at me. 

“That’s right,” I say. “Rai and I were… interrupted this morning during our bath.”

“ _Interrupted_ ,” Aoba giggles, sounding a little surprised. “You weren’t doing anything improper, I hope! I’m sure they would have left you alone if you were… _busy_.” Aoba laughs lightly. “How funny! I just can’t imagine that! You’d _never_ do such a thing in a public place, Konoe. I know you too well. You’re not that type—you’re _much_ too shy. Although—perhaps Rai could persuade you? Me, on the other hand, it wouldn’t take much to persuade me…” he glances shyly in Koujaku’s direction, and I suddenly realize what a perfect fit they are.

Koujaku whips his head around, suddenly realizing the meaning of that comment, staring open-mouthed at his lover, and I can’t help smiling. A pang hits my chest—based on how Koujaku was looking at me this morning. It was an accident. I would never do _anything_ to get between those two. They are meant for each other; I know it—I can feel it. But I remember feeling his gaze on me—and all of this guilt rushes through my mind and heart in a matter of seconds. 

Koujaku absolutely _must_ see Aoba in his Siren form. That will take them to the next level of intimacy, I think. I wonder—does Aoba’s Siren speak to Koujaku? Or perhaps he’s more mature and integrated and experienced than I am. Perhaps mine speaks for me when I cannot, saying things for me that I don’t have the guts to say to Rai myself. Is that what this is really all about? My heart feels like it’s slipping. But then Koujaku turns back to stare at me.

I don’t know what to do.

I’m insecure. I have all this angst—I’m afraid of getting between a fellow Siren and his soulmate. Then there’s Kou, who frightens me slightly, and Takemoto, who terrifies me. My own partner—Rai—I can’t even talk to him directly. He can throw me off just by eating a piece of sushi like that. What the hell is _wrong_ with me? It’s no wonder the Siren has to directly interfere! I’m a complete _disaster_! What does Rai even _see_ in me? What if it’s _only_ the Siren’s spell, and Rai doesn’t love me for who I really am? Who _am_ I, really? If I don’t even know myself, how can I expect him to?

I take a small bite of the food in front of me, not caring what it is, and tears are burning in the back of my eyes and my throat. Why do I do this to myself?

I look up, and those three are still staring. Koujaku has a Siren of his own. He’s at least managing to eat and being casual about it. But Kou and Takemoto, there’s nothing subtle there. They have both stopped eating and are staring me down.

I’ve officially reached my limit.

“What _is_ it?” I ask, loudly and directly. “You three have been staring at me like I’ve grown wings and a fishtail.” I’m a little shocked by my own words.

Rai’s chopsticks clatter against his plate. Did he drop them? I feel him bump my leg with his fluffy tail. I push it away, irritated.

“What?” I ask, turning to Rai directly. “Why did you just tap my leg? It’s probably your fault anyway, for getting me all worked up like this just before we walked in. You _always_ do that!”

I find myself rather annoyed. I take a deep breath.

“First, Aoba, you should be _prepared_. Make sure _only_ _Koujaku_ is with you when you go to the hot springs. And be _forewarned_! Have you bathed in saltwater before?”

“Oh yes, all the time. Being from Midorijima, I used to swim in the ocean all the time,” Aoba says happily. “It’s wonderful.”

Shocked, I look up at him. “Really? And nothing _unusual_ has ever happened while you were in the water?”

“Unusual? What do you mean?” Aoba looks at me curiously. “Admittedly, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in the ocean. Years, I think—maybe not since I was a child.”

“Maybe it's the timing? I _still_ think you should be prepared,” I insist, after a small pause. I’m sure he will change his form, especially if Koujaku is with him.

“Be prepared? Whatever for?” Aoba sounds curious but unworried.

“Oh, you’ll see once you get there,” Rai says casually.

Takemoto pipes in, “ _I’d_ like to see it, too.” 

Kou adds, “So would I. Konoe, will _you_ go back in this afternoon? I’ll go with you if you like, especially if Rai is occupied. He must be busy.”

Rai looks up sharply. “No, you most _certainly_ will not.”

“What are you young ones talking about?” Bardo asks. “Come on, _out_ with it.”

“Konoe’s _Siren_ form appeared this morning when he was exposed to saltwater,” Rai says simply.

“When you say Siren form,” Bardo asks carefully, “what exactly do you mean?”

“He sprouted giant wings, covered in white feathers, from his back, and his legs and tail transformed into a gold fishtail. I even saw him fly. It was amazing,” Rai leans back in his chair when he shares this information, keeping his tail surrounding my waist just under the table, rather possessively. I try to push it away. He is _annoying_ me, all up in my space like this. I’m not sure what my problem is, but now, he’s talking about me growing wings and a tail like it’s nothing unusual like I did it for _his sake_ or something. Is that what he thinks happened? Come to think of it, didn't he say something like that earlier?

“Yeah. _Amazing_ ,” agrees Kou.

“I’d _kill_ to see it again. _Never_ seen anything as _beautiful_ ,” Takemoto says. “Except I don’t think he liked me very much.” That last part is quiet and directed at me.

“You shouldn’t have threatened me,” I retort. Did he just say he’d _kill_ to see it again? _What the hell?_ “And it was excruciating. Growing wings hurts like a son of a bitch!”

“You grew _wings_?” Ciel marvels. “I’d like to see that. That sounds _incredible_! What happened to that form? Where is it now? You changed back to your cute kitty self?”

“I think in order to stay in that form, I need to remain in saltwater.” I choose to ignore the fact that a kitten as cute as Ciel just called _me_ cute.

“ _Wait_ a minute, wait a minute,” Aoba says, shifting nervously in his seat. “Wings and a fishtail? That’s _crazy_! You think this is what will happen to _me_ , too? But I’ve been in saltwater before, and nothing like this happened!” Glancing up at Koujaku, he says, “You were just going to bring me to the hot springs without telling me _any_ of this??”

Koujaku doesn’t meet Aoba’s accusing glare but smirks a little while trying to concentrate on his food. “I thought it might be interesting…”

“Interesting??” Aoba has raised his voice now, to almost a hysterical level. “That doesn’t sound _interesting_ to me at all! That sounds incredibly painful!”

“Well, you and I used to go to the beach all the time as kids, didn’t we?” Koujaku finally looks at Aoba. “Nothing happened then, did it? Plus, I'd be with you. I would... comfort you.”

“I think it was timing,” I reach out my hand to Aoba’s shoulder, completely ignoring Koujaku's tone. “Rai was with me, so I wasn’t alone when I transformed. Plus—have you been swimming in the ocean as an adult? You two will really bond if he sees you transform.”

“Koujaku, it’s not _just_ the transformation that helps you bond,” Rai says, with a wistful sigh, raising his eyebrows but keeping his eyes glued to his plate in front of him. I  _really_ hope he doesn't say anymore. I'm a little pissed he said anything at all.

“Hou?” Koujaku asks, now incredibly interested. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"He's not saying anything else!" I add quickly. It's nobody's business. Why does he feel the need to talk about it?

"If it isn't anyone's business, maybe you guys should keep it down a little bit," Bardo suggests. "Just as the cat who happens to share a wall with you, you guys aren't exactly _quiet_ —not that I really mind. I mean, when you get to my age, any little thing can help get you in the mood. And hell, morning sex is _great_! Tch—dammit, Ciel! I'm just being honest—ouch!"

Oh, my gods. I am _really_ embarrassed now. I can't even raise my face. At least Ciel is pinching him for me.

“And along with that transformation, he had such a strange sense of _incredible_ sensuality—I mean, more than is streaming off of him now,” Takemoto interrupts suddenly. “It was crazy. I can’t stop _thinking_ about it. Like, the more I think about it, the more I want to just drag him down to that saltwater and immerse him, just to see him again, even though I think he’d kill me with his screaming!”

I shrink back against Rai when I hear his words. That blond guy scares the _shit_ out of me.

“If you touch my Siren, I’ll kill you,” Rai says casually, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Your life is nothing compared to the lives I’ve already taken to protect him. Watch yourself.”

“I didn’t say I’d actually _do_ it. I wasn’t there when he transformed, so I didn’t know it _hurt_ him to transform. I didn’t know it was _painful,_ ” Takemoto continues, glancing at me.

Now that he knows it hurts to transform, I bet he wants to drag me off, even _more_ , I think. He _really_ frightens me. I cuddle up next to Rai, taking a piece of sushi from his plate. It’s really delicious! The texture is like silk—it simply melts in my mouth. It’s so tasty and delightful.

“This is _really_ good,” I exclaim.

“I asked the chef how to make it,” Bardo said. “Ciel and I had a lesson after our own... activities this morning." Bardo grins. "I should be able to prepare it while we’re at sea.” 

“Fish,” Rai says again, lowly, directed toward my ear. “I’ve had such a _hankering_ for fish.”

His words aren’t exactly dirty, but the _way_ he says them—lowly, in my ear, breathily—it makes my face heat up. I don’t know if he means it that way, but it reminds me of how he was talking about my tail earlier, and my ears flood with heat.

While these thoughts are swirling around, I feel a hand on my tail. It’s his left hand—the one not currently occupied with chopsticks. I look up at him abruptly, sending him a little glare—he _is_ doing this on purpose, and he smiles back at me innocently.

“What? You don’t care for it? I think it’s quite… tasty. It’s simply _delicious_.” He laughs out loud, shamelessly, after seeing the expression on my face. “You’re making me want to _have_ _seconds_. I can’t help myself.”

I blush mightily and realize can’t finish my meal. I’m not very hungry after all. I've had enough of this.

“Excuse me,” I say rather shortly. “I’m going back to my room.”

Rai laughs heartily. “I’ll join you momentarily, little one.” Before releasing me, he whispers in my ear, “Go get yourself ready—but not _too_ ready.”

That brings another flush to my cheeks, and a small mortified sound falls from my mouth again. How does he manage to fluster me so completely?

I rise to my feet and stalk out of the dining room. I close the dining room door a little harder than necessary and march down the hall to our room. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself and then enter.

Sitting down on the bed, I gather my thoughts. I realize I probably shouldn’t have lost my temper. Rai was just teasing. I am perhaps slightly more sensitive about these things than I should be, more than I need to be. I need to just go with the flow. Perhaps if I were just a little bolder, I would feel a little more confident.

I never had a problem with being bold with Rai on the ship, it seems, but around other cats, I find my movements forced. I’m not sure, but I wonder if it’s because I’m slightly afraid of him.

The belting Rai gave me in on the deck of the ship is still fresh in my mind. He required my immediate and full submission in front of the crew—he _insisted_ on it—and when he didn’t get it, he _forced_ it. He could have really hurt me, I realize now. He is much larger in stature than the other cat who use a belt on me, who ended up injuring me terribly. Rai must have experience in these things, I’m sure of it now, and he limited the force behind the blows he gave me. He didn't even leave marks on me. My body shivers just remembering.

Just for a moment, my mind takes me back. While it’s dark on deck, the moon is bright, the air pleasant and feels fresh against my skin. I’d been locked inside for so long that I was _delighted_ to be outside. Why did he punish me again? What was the actual reason? I think I’d disobeyed him somehow—perhaps it had to do with the sound of my voice. I was unaware of the effect it had on the others around me.

That’s right! As I think about it, I shudder, remembering his loud, booming Captain’s voice addressing me, yelling at me, asking me what I thought I should do to make up for my insolence. I can remember being absolutely _terrified_ of him—but then, when he actually put me over his knee, I couldn’t remember _ever_ feeling so turned on in my entire life. He pressed my hips down hard against his lap—I inhale sharply in at the memory—I know he felt it, but I wonder if he knows how close I was to climaxing.

What might he have done to me if I had come?

I can’t even imagine. Another shiver traverses my entire body—and I’m _so_ glad I’m in here alone right now—I’d hate to have to explain myself. Would he have fucked me in front of the crew? Stripped me naked, maybe shoved me over that barrel and violently fucked me till I couldn’t walk? I realize my body is shivering with delight, waves of pleasure running through me, not even an ounce of horror. Shouldn’t I be _afraid_ of that? Shouldn’t I _fear_ him? What is _wrong_ with me? I don’t understand!

A fresh flush comes over me when I realize I’m dripping, bodily fluids seeping through my robe when I fantasize about it now. I was hard when he was belting me, too—when he was forcing my submission. Did that mean I actually _liked_ it? Did I _want_ him to force me to submit? Was it really _that_ much of a turn-on for me? I shudder strongly. And then afterwards—he wanted me to prove my obedience to him. He insisted I show myself to him, and then undress him with only my mouth, and then—when he insisted I maintain eye contact with him—that claw play—my body shudders violently.

I realize I’ve thrown myself back on the bed, and I’m stroking myself over the fabric of my yukata. I wonder—could I _provoke_ him into spanking me again? My toes curl into the mattress when I grab my shaft through the fabric, imagining Rai pulling me across his lap, pressing my hips against his knees. Maybe not publicly, definitely not with a _belt_ —but perhaps he would do it in private? Would I dare ask him to?

A lewd sounding sigh sneaks out of my lips, and I hear someone at the door. Is Rai back already? Strange, since I was so distracted I didn't detect his wonderful scent. I sit up, ears pointing toward the sound excitedly in anticipation, and scramble off the bed. I’ll jump him as soon as he comes in—it’s _his_ fault for making me this way. He started it outside the dining room, stroking me the way he did. I think he will be pleased with my boldness, and he will forgive me earlier crabbiness.

I throw open the door of our room and jump in the arms of the cat standing there—and it _isn’t_ Rai. To my utter shock, it’s _Takemoto_.

Sounds of surprise come from both of us—but he isn’t disappointed by my appearance, not in the least, and he instantly grabs my hands and pulls them harshly behind me. He drags me back into the room and closes the door behind him. He is taller than me and _much_ stronger than he looks. Plus with those reflexes, I wonder _exactly_ what he does for Koujaku.

Back in our room, he binds my hands together, behind my back—he has something in his hands—a sash or rope—I don’t know. Then he silences my mouth with a rag, tying it tightly behind my neck.

My protests are muffled instantly and fear courses through me. Where is Rai? Did he hear me? What if I wasn’t I loud enough? Gods, not this again, and this is my own doing, isn't it? I jumped on this cat without thinking! I'm filled with self-loathing and hate, along with fear. With my hands bound behind me, the blond cat grabs my hair and drags me back out of the room down the hall, away from the dining area and toward the hot springs. Tears spill down my cheeks from the pain.

 _No_ —I try to cry out from behind the gag. _Please_ — _don’t do this!_

The bathing area is deserted since it’s lunchtime. All the other guests are either eating or resting after their meals. I was told it isn’t considered healthy to bathe after a hearty lunchtime meal. But he pulls me into the pool area all the same.

“So—how does this work, anyway?” When he looks at me, his face is heated with passion, much to my surprise. He’s been treating me with such violence that I thought he must be angry. But his eyes are filled with _passion_ and even desire. It frightens me to my core. If he continues with this—I’m afraid of what Rai will do to him.

My words are muffled through the gag— _Rai is going to kill you_ —and nothing intelligible comes out. _He will kill you_ , I try again. I hope he will see the desperation in my eyes, and he seems to make the connection that I want to speak, but he doesn’t remove the gag.

“I’m not stupid. I know you can kill me with that voice of yours. Probably you can call that crazy silver cat here, too. I won’t be around long enough for that. I _just_ want to see that other form. How does it work? You were in the water before—so let's get in. That’s what you said at lunch.”

He’s dressed in a yukata, as well, and thankfully, he _stays_ dressed. Maybe he just wants to see me? He wades into the water, pulling my arm, dragging me behind him. The water feels comfortable and soothing on my skin—like home—the scent filling my nose with nostalgia, just like last time. But this time, I’m afraid—filled with fear. I’m shaking my head, trying to pull away from him.

“Do you have to get all the way under, perhaps?” his voice sounds slightly mischievous. Without warning, he dunks my head under the water and holds me there. I panic—I’m afraid I won’t be able to breathe—and I kick my legs desperately since I can’t move my arms. He’s holding my head under with both hands, enjoying my struggle.

Suddenly—something changes on my neck. It feels like something is strangling me. At first, I think he’s moved his hands to my throat to choke me—but I still feel both hands on my head, holding me underwater, and I cry out loudly under the water behind the gag, screaming at the top of my lungs, using all my remaining breath.

But then—after that strangling feeling subsides—and water fills my lungs—and I realize I can breathe. I am breathing the water and actually getting oxygen. What the _hell_ just happened? My neck feels oddly heavy, however, and very sore—but I can _breathe_ underwater. Holy shit. Maybe I really am a water creature.

I stop kicking my legs and I go still. He’s held my head under for at least 90 seconds now. Is he actually trying to _kill_ me? This guy really scares me.

I don’t get a chance to worry, however, when a strange feeling tingles in my lower body. I feel my legs and tail constricting—they are turning into a tail. The pain of it is rather shocking but not as bad as the pain of my wings, which are simultaneously emerging from my shoulders. They burst out all at once this time—not slowly like they did before—tearing the yukata from my back and a scream from my lungs behind the gag and expand fully, knocking Takemoto off balance. He releases his hold on me.

Surprised, and with incredibly sore shoulders and a sore spots of either side of my neck—I want to feel what that sensation is on either side of my neck, but with my hands bound, I can't **—** I smoothly swim away from him in the water and poke my head up on the other side of the pool. I can’t speak, I can’t sing—not with the gag in my mouth. Now, I have wings and a tail, which may help me keep away from him, however. Apparently, I can breathe underwater. That’s different.

“What the fuck?!” Takemoto splashes back up, soaked to the skin, shocked and angrily looking in my direction. But his facial expression is definitely heated. “Can you fucking breathe underwater? What the holy hell are you?”

I try screaming from behind the gag, and it doesn’t work. I try singing, and nothing comes out. At least I can keep away from him, but I may not be able to keep away forever. I splash water in his direction with my tail, and I am easily able to swim away. It’s like walking—only even easier. My fear starts to subside just a little bit when I realize I have strength in this form, even with my arms bound and my mouth gagged.

I experiment with my wings—lifting my body out of the water—and then splashing back down loudly, seeing if I can make enough noise to call Rai—or anyone—to help me. They have to be able to see that being bound and gagged isn’t right. I realize there's a risk I may call someone like Kou, but I still take it just the same. And I'm not frozen in fear, I realize proudly. I'm _actively_ protecting myself this time.

I look around for anything to help release my hands. I try rubbing the rope my wrists against the edge of the pool—but I don’t have that kind of time. Takemoto approaches me, grabbing at my tail with a crazy look on his face.

“I want to know—what _are_ you exactly? Are you a _demon_? It’s like you’ve hypnotized me. I can’t stop thinking about you, every time I close my eyes I see your face, your form, and I hear _your_ voice. I’ve _got_ a girl at home. How can I go home when you’ve done _this_ to me? Take responsibility for what you’ve done!” He’s yelling at me, angry. “I don’t even fucking lean this way! What did you fucking _do_?”

 _I didn’t do anything,_ I try to say, but it’s unintelligible. That’s it—maybe I need to get _him_ angry. Maybe _his_ shouting will bring someone to my aid. It echoes in here. I drop my tail in the water again, splashing loudly.

“What’s wrong with your throat? Those weren't there last time,” Takemoto’s hands reach out toward me and grab my neck before I can get away. I was distracted with trying to loosen my hands, he’s now got his hands on my throat.

“Gills? You have fucking _gills_?” When his fingers tighten around my throat, I realize I can either fly or swim. So I dive underwater, taking him with me, skimming along the very bottom of the pool. I realize I see _crystal_ clearly when I’m underwater—my eyes aren’t foggy like they are in my Ribika form. I watch him struggle underwater, trying to keep his hands on me, but he has to loosen them eventually, since he needs to come up for air. I don’t. I can stay down here all day. 

Even from underwater, I can hear him yelling at me to return to the surface. His fury is obvious and fearsome. His feet stomp on my delicate tail fins, and it hurts, so I move out of his reach. What does he even _want_ from me? I thought it was to rape me, but he hasn't got that far yet.

When I finally surface, I lift myself up with my wings and fly over his head and out of his reach. I’m pretty much soaking the entire area—there’s water everywhere. I would try to fly out of the room, but I don’t think I can fit through the door. I look more closely, and I think I can get my body to the hallway, but I'll be stuck there. The corridor is too narrow for my wings.

I still have to give it a shot, and I fly toward the door. The door swings open with the weight of my tail, and I burst through, tail first, allowing my body to slide on the floor—leaving a trail of water in my path. Sure enough, I can’t fly in the hallway. Even if I try sideways, I am unable to flap because the ceiling is too low. I start making as much racket as I can, flopping my tail and flapping my wings, and screaming behind the gag.

To my utter relief, I see a flash of silver hair at the very end of the corridor, and Rai turns the corner when he hears the noise.

“Konoe!” he exclaims, but his body freezes when he sees me. “You—your form. What the hell?”

I urge him on with my eyes, screaming behind the gag, flopping my tail and flapping my wings desperately. _Hurry up, help me, gods damn it!_

The door to the bathing area opens behind me, making me turn my head. Takemoto appears.

I look back at Rai, and his eyebrows raise. Then, his look suddenly darkens. “What the fuck have you done? Did you do this? Why is my Siren bound and gagged?”

I start yelling again behind my gag— _release me, damn it!_ But Rai ignores me, walking past me and right up to Takemoto and punching him in the face. He doesn’t wait for an explanation, and he doesn’t hold back. The sound of his hand hitting the blond cat’s face is horribly unpleasant. I hear something crunch—it sounds like bones breaking. It raises the hair on the back of my neck.

“I’d kill you, but then I’d have to answer to Koujaku. Keep your hands _off_ my Siren. If you touch him again, I _will_ kill you. I’ll assume you didn’t hear my last warning, perhaps due to damage in your ear. This is your last chance,” Rai speaks severely and coldly to the blond cat, who is now slumped on the floor.

He bends down, picks me up, and brings me back to the room. He doesn’t release my hands or remove the gag, leaving me feeling defenseless and vulnerable.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai gets Siren-form Konoe back to the room, and he's not pleased. He's a little upset to hear how Takemoto got into his room and has a slight overreaction.
> 
> Warnings: This interaction starts as non-con and is pretty angsty. Rai eases up a bit, however, and it ends pretty fluffily because that's what I need right now. He just can't help himself, I suppose.

When we walk back into our room, Rai doesn’t exactly set me down gently. In fact, I might even say that he throws me down on the bed—my hands still bound behind my back, and the gag still in my mouth. I would like to say that the violence shocks me or at least surprises me, but I’ve been with Rai long enough now to expect this kind of behavior from him—at least occasionally. I would really appreciate him undoing my restraints, however, so I mumble at him through the gag in my mouth, imploring him with my eyes. 

His fur still bristles—and I can’t help noticing just how attractive he looks like this. A memory flashes before my eyes—right after that belting on deck, when he brought me back to his chambers, he was growling and bristled just like this. I feel my body flush when this image flashes through my mind because, as much as he scares me, this beast-Rai _really_ gets my juices going. I’d love for him to fuck me like he is now—just take the damn gag off first, so I'm not so damned helpless!

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and blows a frustrated sigh, looking down at me, and then to his feet. He steps up to remove the gag from my mouth, and his low voice growls, “Konoe, don’t speak unless it’s to answer a question, and don’t move.”

Instantly, I feel the strange effect of his voice—saying my name—washing over my body, and I am infuriated by his command. It's the same as being physically restrained! However, at least the gag and rope are removed, making me more comfortable, and he offers me a glass of water from the pitcher, which I gratefully accept.

The afternoon moon peeks through the window—it doesn’t leave rays of light on the floor like this morning, but it brightens the room. It makes my fishtail rather lovely and shimmery, the iridescent scales shining brightly, though they don’t reflect patterns on the walls like they did earlier this morning.

“Are you injured or hurt anywhere?” Rai asks, sitting on the bed next to me. His hands move to my tail, just his fingertips brushing against the scales. He touches me lightly, but the scales are quite sensitive—almost like my Ribikan tail, in fact—and it tickles just a little.

“No, I’m fine.” I want to continue, thanking him for appearing when he did, but the words stick in my throat, and a strangled sound comes out in place of my words. It seems I really _can’t_ disobey him when he uses my name. I wonder, will it wear off eventually? Or will I _never_ be able to speak until he specifically allows it? What if he forgets to allow me to speak? I’ll only ever be able to respond to his questions, and I’d lose my voice forever. A slightly suffocating feeling comes over me when I ponder this, and I try to squeeze out some words—a word of thanks—and instead, more strange sighs escape my lips.

He looks up at me, realizing what I’m trying to do.

“Are you _deliberately_ trying to disobey my command? Never have I met a more stubborn creature,” Rai muses, cocking an eyebrow and gently stroking my ears. After a short pause, his tone sharpens all at once. “So, why the hell did you open the door? What did you expect would happen, especially after the conversation at lunch?”

Taken aback, I try to answer. I _try_ to say it wasn’t my fault, making an excuse, but those words won’t come out. Instead, I answer, “I thought it was you at the door.” 

“You thought _I_ was at the door? Don’t you recognize the sound of my footsteps or my scent? Or worse, you confused _my_ scent with _his_?” He glares at me, looking down his nose. He’s really pissed, his eye remains narrowed, his fur still fluffed fully, his tail lashing angrily.

“Of course, I recognize your scent, Rai,” I say softly, looking down at my tail, wanting to wiggle my fins a little, but still not being able to move. I want to reach out and touch him, but frustratingly I'm not allowed. “I was just a little distracted.”

“So your _distraction_ caused you to open the door for a cat you _knew_ wanted to take advantage of you? Do you have a death wish?” His voice is so harsh.

“No,” I say, embarrassed. I really can't even look at him when his tone is this severe. “I was just... very distracted.”

“What on earth could have caught your attention so thoroughly?”

“I was feeling bad for the way I reacted to your teasing at lunch,” I respond honestly. “I realized I may have overreacted. And—I was thinking I might... make it up to you.”

“Really? Make it up to me how?” The pitch of his voice drops a little, and he softens his tone slightly.

Do I really have to tell him? I keep silent. I'd rather not discuss this. 

“Konoe, tell me what was distracting you and how you thought you’d make it up to me,” Rai says, affectionately, running one hand through my hair and stroking my feathers with the other. He makes a little shiver run through my wings with his touch. I definitely detect a smirk on that arrogant face. He's using his ability to command me to make me tell him what he wants to know, and that bothers me. I experience an extreme urge to open my mouth and bite the inside of my cheek to prevent the words from spilling out, but soon, I can't resist.

“Gah! I was distracted by memories of our previous encounters, and I was remembering specific details about them,” the words flow out of my mouth in a frenzy. “I was planning to jump you when you came back to the room—but it wasn’t you at the door.”

“Jump me?” Rai asks, eyebrows raised. “Just a second—Wait a second. Did that cat just walk right into the room?”

“No,” I say, miserably. “He knocked.”

“He _knocked_? And you thought I would _knock_ on the door to _my own room_?”

“I...” I’m at a loss for words, and I can’t look at him. “I wasn’t exactly in my right mind, as my mind wasn’t functioning properly. I was perhaps focused on... other parts of my body.”

“I see," Rai answers. "You didn’t... jump _him_ , did you?” Rai’s voice turns somewhat suspicious.

“Ah, well, thinking he was you, I _did_ kind of startle him,” I say, keeping my face lowered in shame.

“What, _exactly_ , was preoccupying your mind _so heavily_ that you’d neglect to realize I wouldn’t knock on my own door? Plus then lead you to throw yourself into the arms of a cat that you know has it out for you?” Now he sounds simply incredulous. I have to admit, he’s absolutely justified to feel what he’s feeling. It is a little ridiculous. But I _still_ don’t think I’m responsible for the attack on my person! 

“I was...” my voice trails off, and I have a _serious_ urge to speak. I try to resist because I really don’t want to discuss this. But I can’t help myself. I _have_ to speak. I feel _compelled_ to speak. “I was remembering the… lesson you taught me on deck, just before we came into port.” I look down so he can’t see my blushing face.

Rai is silent for a moment, and then I feel claws against my jaw. He has taken hold of my chin, lifting my face to his, forcing me to meet his eye. He isn’t trying to scratch me—it’s just that his claws are still drawn. His fangs are still visible, too—I want to touch them, but I’m unable to move. His fur still bristles, but he isn’t growling. Also—his eye—that pupil—it’s fully blown, which makes his usually pale eye dark and dramatic. I find myself a little breathless at the sight. Gods, he's a sexy animal.

“The belting? Were you fantasizing about the belt spanking I gave you in front of the crew?” I watch his full lips move as he speaks, as he enunciates each word. It’s almost as though I can hear his pronunciation more clearly because he’s commanded me to answer him. My ears seem to be listening for the next question.

“Yes,” I answer, guiltily. “I was.” To my surprise and embarrassment, I keep talking, unable to stop myself. “I was thinking of a way I might be able to provoke you into giving me another spanking—this one in _private_ , with your hand, over your lap.” Oh shit! I said it! It just came out!

“Were you, now?” When he hears my words, his pupil narrows slightly and then blows wide again. It’s _amazingly_ sexy. “I’m a little surprised to hear that, considering your response afterward in my quarters. Didn’t it _hurt_ you? Didn’t _I_ hurt you?”

“Yes, of course,” I answer right away. “But the attention pleased me. And I think I may have… _enjoyed_ the pain. I thought if I could feel your _hand_ on me—in that way—it would be an incredible turn-on.”

“I see,” Rai answers, still keeping his hand—and that eye—on my face. There’s a pause. I want to know—does he feel the same way? I _know_ he does—he _loves_ to feel like he is in control, which is why he’s commanding me the way he is right now. “Your behavior does seem to warrant another lesson, doesn’t it?”

A violent shudder runs through my body at the sound of those words—from the tips of my ears to the tip of my fins, and each little scale and each feather shivers a little. He smiles at my reaction.

“Little one, what would you do in exchange for a spanking—in private, from me, over my knee?”

I’m not sure I understand his question, but I can’t ask for clarification. My mouth opens to answer, and nothing comes out. Because I don’t understand, my body is starting to suffer consequences because I haven't answered. He said “in exchange,” as though he wants to bargain with me? Oh! I think I get it now.

“ _Anything_!” I exclaim suddenly—relief filling my body since I was able to comply with his command. I keep answering, hoping to prolong that relieved feeling a little longer. “I would do anything you desired.”

“Would you let me fuck you while you’re in this form?” His eyebrows are raised slightly, a little mischievously.

“Yes,” I answer, maybe a little too quickly.

“Then, perhaps—you can make it up to me, and after you change back to your Ribikan form, I will teach you a little lesson about the consequences of excessive distraction.” The power in his voice sends chills down my spine. It’s the Captain’s voice—only spoken in a lower tone, slightly softer. He uses this voice only for me, only in the bedroom, or when he wants to get me going.

I want to agree with him, give my consent, but I can’t speak. Only unintelligible sighs come out, to my chagrin.

He pushes my body back on the bed, and I realize I’m still unable to move or defend myself. But this also means I can’t reach out to him, I can’t run my fingers through his hair, I can’t touch. I also can’t ask him to remove these restraints—because of the restraint on my voice. I’m stuck—even in this powerful form—I am unable to move, unable to resist.

Although... do I really  _want_ to resist?

Silver hair is covering my abdomen—Rai has climbed into bed beside me and has lowered his face to my belly. His tongue and mouth are currently covering me with kisses and small nips, tracing my waistline between flesh and tail with his mouth. The sensation is incredible.

The skin on my belly is sensitive—no one touches me there—no one except him has really touched me there for any extended period of time—and I want to naturally curve my belly inward when his hand casually brushes against my skin. 

The scales on my fins are sensitive in the same way my feathers are. Each one has its own ability to sense touch and temperature. When he kisses each scale I can tell whether he’s using his lips or his tongue. Occasionally, when a fang grazes me, even that slight scratching, sharp sensation becomes strangely intense.

Sounds are coming out of my mouth—not words, but strange sounds—even weirder than what usually happens in our intimate settings. These are more muffled cries, stifled sighs, and I almost sound like I’m in pain. Usually, I try to restrain my voice, as much as I can—at least until I can’t stand it anymore, and then simply let it all out at once. But now—because I am not able to speak, strange sounds are coming from my lips that I can’t stop.

Wait—just a minute—what if it hurts? What if he hurts me? I don't think he would deliberately, of course. It's just that I don’t know this body well enough—but I _want_ to be able to tell him if it hurts. And frankly, I’m intimidated if I'm unable to move or defend myself. I’m afraid. 

Perhaps because of my current form, perhaps because of my recent traumatic experience with those other cats, I feel like I need him to slow down for a minute—and so I start to beg—and I try to struggle, but I’m unable to move my body.

The pleading desperate look _has_ to be obvious in my eyes and in my face—but I can’t seem to get his attention—well, I’ve _definitely_ captured his attention, just he won’t look at my face.Especially not now—he’s discovered what I’ve been trying to keep away from him. There’s a small opening—hidden between the scales—just above the fin below my waist on the front of my tail, and he’s found it.

He’s running his hands up and down the fin below the opening, and he’s licking it with his tongue, trying to get me to relax. But I can’t relax— _not_ like this. _I don’t want this_. Perhaps I can get his attention this way. Technically, I’m not moving, so I can resist him by _not_ relaxing my body. 

“Siren,” Rai looks up, and when I see his face, he looks like a different cat. He looks _obsessed_ —there’s a heat in his face that I’ve only seen once before—and that was the first day I went into heat. Even his cheeks are slightly flushed, and he _never_ blushes. Not ever. “Are you resisting me?”

“Yes!” I yell—at the top of my lungs. I try to say more, but only sighs come out.

“Do you not appreciate the restraints I’ve placed on you? You look... frustrated,” he looks up at my face but continues dragging his tongue across the scales concealing that opening.

“No—please—" I start begging my answer but am unable to finish. Again, more strange sounds are coming out.

“Don’t you trust me?”

I swallow thickly. Is _that_ what this is about? Am I afraid of him? Don’t I trust him? We’ve done this many times before—once while I was in this form—and he has always been a kind lover. Yes, he can be intense and a little rough sometimes, but he has never hurt me.

Except—for the belting on the deck of the ship. That _hurt_! It hurt so much I couldn’t walk afterward. Yet, even at the time, I think I loved it. I was so turned on I almost came right there in front of the crew. Plus the care I received from him afterward was tender, almost... loving…

Wait. Does he _love_ me? Why? Why would someone like _him_ —so powerful, so handsome, elegant, and refined—why would he love _me_? I’m literally a monster. I might have put some kind of spell on him when I was a child, connecting him to me, so he doesn’t have a choice.

I still haven’t answered his question, and my body isn’t suffering—it hurt me before when I didn't answer his questions. But I’m trying to be honest here, and I really don’t know if I trust him or not.

“I—" I start to answer the question as “I don’t know,” but I realize if I say that, it may not be my  _best_ move. What if he doesn’t understand? How can I get my feelings across?

“I’d like to clarify my answer,” I say—and all the words are coming as expected.

He stops his tongue for a moment, giving my face his full attention, but his hands are still moving. He has one massaging the fin below my waist, and his fingers feel amazing. He’s not using either too hard or too soft of a touch. And the other hand—it’s skimming over the place right above that fin—the place he would currently like to explore—but instead of forcing his way in, he is gently sliding his fingertips over the top of the scales. It’s so sensitive there I can almost feel his fingerprints.

“Go ahead,” he encourages, resting his face in my pelvic bone, and he licks the soft fur below my navel in an upward motion. I’ve been concentrating so much of the feelings of his tongue and mouth against my scales, I forgot how good it feels to have him lick my skin. And while he’s moving in an upward motion—away from the place I’m trying to hide—his last lick pulls an indescribably loud and obscene-sounding sigh from the core of my body. I end up curling my both my upper and lower body toward him. 

“What’s wrong? You know I‘m not going to hurt you, Konoe. Your body knows this. Tell me.” His voice sounds both patient and almost wild.

“I am afraid,” I begin, “because I don’t understand this body very well yet. Also, I’m afraid of your reaction to this form. You seem so passionate about me like this—almost like you might lose control. While you don’t exactly frighten me—I _do_ trust you—I am filled with fear because I can’t ask you to stop if it hurts. What if you do something to me that I want you to stop, and I can’t speak. What if you don’t _notice_ my need? If you released my hands, I could at least indicate if something was wrong, by pulling your hair or tail. I realize if you decided you wanted to take me in this form, you could do so _without_ asking my permission or consent. You could probably even do it _without_ keeping my arms or voice restrained. So why... why do you want to keep these restraints in place? They—the restraints— _they_ are frightening me right now. I don’t know if that makes sense to you, but there it is.”

There’s a short pause, during which Rai seems to consider my words before he opens his mouth.

“Konoe, do you remember the words I spoke to you just before I claimed you in front of my crew? Just before I took you out on deck?”

“I remember we spoke, but I don’t remember everything. The details are a little fuzzy because of what happened afterward.”

Rai smiles softly. “I told you I never wanted to hurt you, but there may come a time that, because of my position on the ship, or who I am, I might have to do something painful to your body. I try to be just, but sometimes, a good captain can’t be fair. I think you experienced that when you went on deck just before we got into port here, too. Sometimes, as a captain, my actions have to be extreme, and they may seem unfair.”

He reaches a hand up and pulls it through my hair. “I don’t regret the belting I gave you, nor the piercings, but I do regret that they had to hurt your body so much. However—"

He tilts his head toward mine when he says this next piece, “I think there is a part of you—it may be the Siren, or it may be who you _really_ are deep inside—that is slowly blossoming and that I’ve never experienced in any other partner I’ve had. This part of you seems to enjoys pain, especially if you think that the one giving it to you is enjoying himself when he administers it.”

I’m shocked by those words. I really thought I was hiding this part of myself from him, and I’m surprised he sees right through me. I find myself starting to flush slightly, too.

“How—how do you know this?” My voice trembles, with a mix of fear and anticipation.

“Because I’m in the same room with you when it happens. I notice what your body is doing, how it reacts. Don’t you remember the piercings? You’d never had _any_ experience before meeting me, had you? And yet—all I did was pierce your nipples. It should have been painful, and yet you responded in a very unexpected way.”

“Hey!” I want to say, that isn’t _all_ he did, and I’m frustrated beyond belief that I can’t say those words. He grins.

“Well, I _did_ have to disinfect the piercing site thoroughly first, as I recall. But consider your response. You didn’t flinch in fear—you watched in utter fascination. You didn’t turn your face away from either of those piercings. It was an amazing sight—and an amazing turn on for me.”

I flush hotly when he says these things. It turned him on, too? Somehow, that makes me happy.

“You couldn’t see the ear piercing, but don’t you remember, you sang for me?”

“I did,” I remember. The Siren said something about having waited for him all these years. It was like the pain awoke the Siren inside me.

“I do—perhaps—have an inclination to cause you pain, little one—but not because it makes you suffer. I want to inflict pain to watch you lose yourself in pleasure. Your face when you suffer pain and your body's response—your face and body flush, your eyes widen, you salivate, and that tail—your tail fluffs up as thickly as mine, flicking around, tempting me, inviting me—these are things your body does when you are close to a climax. Sometimes, I think you might actually come from the pain I inflict on you. In fact, on the deck of the ship, I was concerned you might come right there—and that really was painful.”

I am ashamed of these feelings, and even more embarrassed he know about them, and I drop my face, but Rai lifts up my chin again.

“No, look at me. This is _not_ something to be ashamed of. This is an indication that you and I—we are _perfect_ for each other. We are a _perfect_ match.”

“You _want_ to hurt me?” I ask, timidly.

“That's not it. I don’t want to _hurt_ you, Konoe. That’s not it _at all_. What I want is to see you come _completely undone_ once you entrust your body, soul, and heart to me—I want to see you _drowning_ in pleasure. I will restrain you, hold you down, force you, take you over my knee—whatever I need to do to get you to drop your restraint and reticence about this. I want—”

He stops, abruptly. “It’s too much to ask from you, and too soon. You were raped and assaulted by those pieces of shit because I failed you. Is it too much for me to ask you to trust me—especially while you're in this form? Am I asking too soon?” He slowly strokes my sides, meeting my gaze earnestly.

“I—” I have to consider. The assault—is _that_ what is making this trust so hard? But this is _Rai_ in front of me, not some unknown cat. This is my captain.

My hands reach out—on their own—to stroke his silver hair. I brush the soft fur of his fluffy, rounded ears—and I remember what I thought back then. This cat may have a lot of hard lines—chiseled features, an unwavering voice, a commanding presence, a strong, tall stature with well-defined muscles. But in spite of all those things—he is not _all_ hard. He has this silky, soft hair, and these fluffy ears, and this amazing bushy tail.

When I think of his tail, I reach out to touch it—remembering what had happened not long ago in a similar circumstance. Rai’s body shivers when my hands run down its length, taking care to right every piece of fur, grooming it with my fingers.

He may see his soft parts as weakness, but I do not. You must have weakness in order to have strength. My hands touch his face and pull him closer—and I realize that’s the _second_ time I’ve moved my hands deliberately. Am I no longer under his command? Why? Why can I touch him now? I don’t think about it too much, but instead, pull him in for a deep kiss. His tongue invades my mouth—he is in want—I can tell from the way he kisses me—desperate to get closer to me, desperate to hold me, and yeah, desperate to fuck me.

“I want you, Konoe,” he says lowly in my ear. “And I want you to lose yourself in pleasure when I take you.”

Those words shoot through my heart and my body like lightning—was that a command? What kind of effect is that going to have? Shit.

“Go ahead and speak, if you need to—but let me hear your voice. Don’t stifle it. If you want to move, go ahead—but I want to do this for you. I want you to rely on me—let me try to make up for when I failed you.” 

His face is so serious when he speaks. He does really desire this body—but he wants me to let him care for me, trust myself to him, even more than he wants me? Is that what this is about? 

I start to relax now that I can move my hands, now that I can feel his hair—and he lowers his face onto my cloaca again. I guess that’s what you’d call that opening, right? It’s such a strange sensation—but I relax enough now that the scales part for him and his tongue slips in. Inside, my erect dick is waiting for some much-needed attention, and that special space that Rai has been longing for—well, that’s there, too.

He doesn’t waste time—he dives in head first, so to speak—or tongue first in his case, and my breath is completely taken away. I have to grab the back of his head because his tongue is so rough and eager—and I don’t want to feel his fangs down there—and he occasionally grazes the edges of the opening in a way that is so sensitive that makes me yelp.

He massages me with his fingers and licks me with his tongue, and all the action is driving me crazy. I’m dripping transparent fluid to lubricate things a little better down there as well. The sounds coming out of my mouth—well, they can’t be helped at this point.

After just a short while he can insert two fingers and scissor them apart, and I don’t feel any pain. Then he looks up at me. His expression—it’s heated—and his face is still slightly flushed—and he's so beautiful like that—but I wonder if he’s going to say something inappropriate.

“This is kinda like your first time—again.”

A strange stunned sound comes out of my mouth, and I flush with embarrassment. He’s always saying stuff like this on purpose.

“Oh, stop it. It is not.”

“But it is. It’s like… you’re a virgin. This body is a virgin’s body. And,” he licks me from the base of the opening to the top, sending a shudder through me that nearly lifts me off the bed, “you are _all mine_.”

One of his hands has wandered to one of my wings and softly strokes the feathers. I feel them blushing where he touches me—filling up with blood as he touches them—and I start to feel very warm, and more than a little desperate.

“I…” I start to say.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m ready now,” I say, very quietly.

“Ready?” He looks at me with a confused look on his face. “Ready for what?”

“…” I find myself blushing furiously, and I look at his face closely. Does he really not understand what I mean? “I mean, I am ready if you are.”

“Ready for what? What do you mean?” He stubbornly persists, but I see just one corner of his mouth flicker upward, for just a second. I knew it! He’s teasing me. He’s giving me a hard time, trying to make me say something that will embarrass me. So I decide to surprise him.

I take both my hands and place them on his head, brushing through his hair, stroking those fuzzy little ears, and I tilt his face up to mine from where he’s been hovering at my waist.

“I mean,” I say, deliberately making my voice low, breathless, and sexy, despite the blush on my face and how hot my ears are feeling, “I want you inside me now. _Fuck me_.”

I watch his pupil as it dilates fully—it darkens so much, changing his look completely—and I am struck with a strange feeling in my chest. Do I really have this much of an effect on this amazing cat? Here, now, in bed with me, is this giant cat, and he could have _anyone_ he wanted. I saw it myself when we were walking on the island. People look his way when he walks—he draws the eye with his body, his hair, his chiseled face. He could have _anyone_. And yet—he chose _me_.

He didn’t just stumble upon me, but he’s been _searching_ for me. The back of my throat closes off, and my eyes burn a little. He’s invested everything he has—all of his monetary resources, all of his power, all of his influence—over the past decade to find me. Why? Why me? Why would he choose me? 

“Your face,” Rai brings his lips to mine, brushing against them softly in a brief kiss. “Why are you looking at me like that? You look like you’re about to cry. Are you afraid?”

“No—it’s not that,” my voice sounds hoarse, and I’m afraid my tears may ruin the moment. “I just don’t understand.”

“What is it, little one?” Rai asks gently, stopping the sexual caresses and moving to my ears and hair gently, bringing me in close to his chest for a soft embrace. “Do you want me to stop? If you are afraid, we can stop.”

Like I believe _that_ for a single second. I give him a look that indicates my disbelief.

“What?” He looks at me again, quirking his mouth in a smile. “Of _course_ I could stop if you wanted me to.”

“You? You’ve been teasing me about fish all day,” I say, almost accusingly—but I can’t keep a smile from my face, either. “I know you wouldn’t stop even if I asked you to.”

“Well, it’s not going to come to that,” Rai says. “You won't ask me to stop. I can be very… persuasive. And since when have you ever been hesitant in the bedroom? I don’t have anything to worry about. But seriously—what don’t you understand? I don’t want to do this with that look on your face.” 

I was hoping he’d forget my expression and we could just continue our activities. I sigh and say, “I was just thinking, you could have _anyone_. I saw how others look at you—both females and males—when we were walking around on the island. You could have anyone you wanted. You’re mightily attractive, Rai. Why would you choose someone like me? It doesn’t make sense.”

Rai grins suddenly. “You find me attractive?”

“Of course I do,” I say, without looking at him.

“What exactly do you like about me?”

“Well, you have beautiful hair. And your pale complexion is perfect. I love your face—your bone structure is so strong and elegantly defined. And your eye—it is such a beautiful color. And your body…” I stop suddenly, looking at Rai.

He has literally puffed up to twice his usual size, his hair is all fluffed out, his tail is bristled, but not in anger. He is really _pleased_. He’s like a child. He has a genuine grin on his face. 

I keep talking. “I love your body. It’s tall, muscular, and lean. I feel like you can protect me. And I love your tail.” I run my fingers through the soft fur on his tail. “Plus, you have a great ass. I noticed even Aoba couldn’t stop looking at it.”

He blinks in surprise.

“And you have long eyelashes. They are so pretty. And everything you do is powerful and strong, yet you have this refined nobility about you—your movements alone capture everyone’s attention.”

I probably shouldn’t say anymore, or he will get too full of himself. But he just looks so pleased—and he takes a moment to kiss my lips.

“You know, little one, has it occurred to you that those people you _thought_ were looking at me were actually checking _you_ out?”

“They weren’t. I saw them. I watched where their eyes went—right to your ass.”

“However, being on your arm, and being _taller_ than you, I can see things you can’t. I can see how much attention you draw from those around you, and you don’t even notice. It kind of makes you even more attractive, because you don’t act like you think you’re as cute as you are. You have _no idea_ how attractive you are. I sometimes think that you were made to draw _my eye_ specifically—and I’m convinced that this body was designed just to attract _me_ —but it turns out, you attract more people than I do. Why do you think you have all those cats pursuing you?”

“Aren’t they just after the Siren?” 

“Aren’t _you_ the Siren?”

I am quiet for a moment. He’s mistaken. He _has_ to be mistaken.

“I invested everything I had to find you— _all_ my resources, yes—and I regret nothing. I want you for _you_ , and I want you _all to myself_. You should know by now that I find you irresistible. Never have I been interested in another cat like this. I wouldn’t hesitate to kill to keep you safe.”

I look at his face abruptly.

“But how do I know that isn’t just because of some spell I cast on you, years ago?”

“Did you cast a spell on me when you first met me? When I happened across you in the forest north of Karou? I don’t remember that.”

I pause for a moment. “I guess I don’t know how to cast spells.”

“Then I like you for who you are. I think you are the perfect size—I find you utterly adorable. Your compact little body is perfectly proportioned—and you have such a nice waistline—even in this form. Here,” Rai runs his fingers down my sides, where my waist curves in slightly, curving out to my hips and then brushes them across my belly. His touch draws a little sigh from me.

“And then—these ears—they are too damn big for your head. Every time I see them I feel the need to lick them, nip them, whisper into them. They are such a temptation,” he does just that—nipping my ear.

“My ears aren’t too big for my head,” I say, almost offended.

“They are. Mine are the correct proportion, you see,” as he tilts his head, offering his ears to me. I take one in my mouth and graze it with a fang.

“Tch! You brat,” he pushes me back to the bed. “Plus, all I have to do is say something to flatter you and you blush. And I find that adorable. You have the sweetest, most innocent face—but once I get you in the bedroom, your voice—gods—it’s downright _filthy_ ,” he whispers the last three words into my ears, which indeed makes me blush.

“Rai! I don’t do that on purpose,” I complain.

“And your eyes,” his face grows serious, and his hands come up to my chin, tilting my face so I meet his gaze. “Your eyes are hypnotizing. They change color, depending on your mood. The more aroused you are, the more they looks like honey, or molten gold. When you’re angry, they look orange, like fire. You show your feelings so easily on your face. And speaking of showing your feelings…”

I feel a hand slipping to my back, and a little lower.

“Your tail. Both of them: this shimmering one, and the adorable Ribikan one. This one is fascinating—the scales move on their own, shivering beneath my fingers, as though each one responds to my touch. And your Ribikan tail—you never keep it under control. It does what it wants, regardless of what your intentions. I can _always_ tell your mood, how you _truly_ feel, when I watch that tail. And it’s soft—plush—muscular—and so _sensitive_. One of a kind, just like you.”

I feel like I might melt. I reach my lips up to Rai’s to kiss him briefly on the lips, but he grabs the back of my head, pressing me against him, kissing me deeply. His tongue invades my mouth possessively, passionately, and I feel him tickling the back of my throat, trying to make me purr, which he does successfully. When he pulls away, he touches his forehead to mine.

“Your body is so responsive,” his voice is low now, almost desperate. “I can do almost _anything_ to you—and you respond to me. I can’t get you out of my head—the way you blink your eyes, the touch of your hands on my skin, the sound of your voice and your purr, the feel of your fur, your taste, and your amazing scent—gods, that scent! It’s almost sticky sweet, like honey, but also contains a floral note as well, like orange blossom. You tickle my nose when I’m around you, and I find it difficult to control myself. I feel a need to touch you. My body is drawn to you.” 

Quite suddenly, he strips off his clothes rather wildly and then kisses me again, deeply, moving his body over me, pressing me against the bed, straddling my tail between his legs—and I feel his cock right at my entrance, and he starts pushing into me ever so slowly.

He doesn’t stop kissing me—even through my groans and sighs—it hurts a little—I feel stretched, and his cock ends up pushing right underneath mine—which is harder than I’d like to admit. I wrap my arms around his neck, exploring his mouth with my tongue—running my tongue along his fangs, trying to induce a purr from him like he did from me, but my tongue isn’t long enough to do that.

Instead, I grab the base of his tail, hard, and squeeze. I hear an uncharacteristic groan from him—directed into my mouth—in response, and so I continue massaging him there. That white bushy tail lashes right to left, wildly and also quite uncharacteristically. I catch the tip in my other hand and run my fingers through the fur—ever so gently. That induces a low, growling purr that satisfies me.

I hear a short sigh, and he pulls away from my lips for a moment, moving to my pierced ear. He licks it, and then whispers, “I was right—it’s a place just for _me_ —exactly my size,” and follows his words with his tongue, which mercilessly invades my ear. I squirm under the assault—I feel like he’s fucking my ear, as he starts to slowly move his hips at the same moment.

When he moves, it’s a strange sensation—because his cock strokes my shaft at the same time—and it’s a terrifyingly pleasurable feeling, almost overwhelming, I have to say. I feel a song bursting in my chest, and it spills out of my mouth in a mist, just like it did before, covering us both. 

The song is laced with desire—erotic and passionate—and it’s intended for Rai. He perks up his ears and his tail fluffs out even more, though he seems a little surprised. That blue eye is hazy and clouded with passion. I keep my hands on his tail as his hips start to move a little faster, changing his angle just slightly with each thrust.

I think I know what he’s doing—and sure enough, he finds that spot inside me that sends frighteningly pleasurable chills up my spine and drains me of power. A noise unlike anything I’ve made so far falls from my lips, and I temporarily let go of his tail when he hits this spot, and he grins at me. 

This might be too much—it scares me. However, he isn’t afraid at all and starts moving his hips in the same fashion, repeatedly rubbing that spot, over and over,  pulling that noise out of me even louder, even more obscenely.

I have to let go of his tail and grab onto his shoulders for dear life. I draw my claws accidentally—I can’t control them—and I know I’m scratching him, but I can’t help it. I try to put my hands on the bed, but he moves them back to his shoulders.

“It’s fine,” he whispers. “It’s fine.”

I realize he’s been looking at my face this entire time—the _entire_ time I’ve been losing myself to this incredible feeling—and I suddenly become terribly self-conscious. My last sense of reason is calling me back to reality. I try to turn my face away because it’s bad enough that he is hearing these obscene sounds from my lips. But letting him see my face like this? That’s too much.

I move one of my hands in front of my face, covering myself, and I try to close my eyes—but I find myself unable to look away from his face. I _want_ to see him. I want to see what he looks like. He’s so different—his voice isn’t calm at all, it isn’t collected or cool, nor is he in control of himself. He is breathing hard, ragged, and his face is filled with lust. I want to see _this_ version of him—so I end up peeking through my fingers.

He notices what I'm doing and roughly moves my arm to the side, exposing me, drawing a surprised sound from my mouth in addition to these sighing, gasping moans that I can’t stifle.

“Don’t try to hide, Konoe. I want to see your face. Show me everything.” A chill runs through my body when he uses my name, and I turn my face to his. He’s commanded me to look at him. I should be annoyed, but the way he did it, for some reason, I’m not upset. Suddenly, a memory of his voice from earlier rings in my head, “And I want you to lose yourself in pleasure when I take you.” That also was a command—and I feel just a little afraid of this giant surge approaching.

My breathing is ragged, my heart is racing, almost threatening to burst out of my chest, and I feel a soft touch against my feathers—both of his hands are wrapped around my back, stroking my wings so gently that he sends shivers into to the tips of my wings. When I feel his tongue enter my ear once again—first licking the outside and then entering it fully, making an explicit-sounding squishing noise, I reach my limit. 

I raise my voice to a near scream, and my mind goes blank. My vision also bleaches to white, and an unearthly wave of pleasure rushes through my body, starting at my waist and then filling the rest of my body—even into the tips of my wings (I feel it in every last feather) and my tail (every last scale ripples in delight, and my fins quiver). I’m left breathless with waves of indulgent pleasure pulsing through my body—and I feel Rai climaxing inside me.

He makes a loud growling sigh, his body shakes and shivers, and he rides out his pleasure with a few more strokes—making my pleasure last a little longer as well.

My stomach is littered with the remains of my passion—sticky and white—but I don’t care, and Rai doesn’t either when he lays his body next to me and pulls me on top of him. A surprised sound comes out when he moves me so suddenly, and my wings suddenly fly open, but I rest soundly with my tail between his legs—his cock still slightly firm against my belly, and my head against his chest. He presses my head down against his heart, which beats rapidly and strongly, and I listen, hypnotized, as it slows down to its regular, strong rhythm.

“Do you hear it?” Rai whispers in my other ear. “It beats for you alone, Konoe.”

A small tear slips down from my eye—well, maybe more than one tear—at those words. The tenderness in his voice touches me, it moves me—and I realize I love this cat more than is safe, more than I should, more than is good for either of us.

I close my eyes and rest in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of feel like I should apologize for this post, just in case if you have to look up any words--I was really nervous about writing about Rai having sex with a siren--although Konoe's body is more like that of a merman. There's surprisingly a *lot* about this online: the level of detail astounds me. I thought first, well, make Konoe like a shark, but that didn't quite fit his image, at least to me. So I made his anatomy kind of like a cross between a fish and a bird. Feel free to look it up, if you like--er, but do NOT do it at work. :)
> 
> Just FYI, from what I was able to find in my (not) extensive (Wikipedia) search--sirens are *technically* a cross between a woman and a bird, and they perch on the rocks along the shorelines, like in The Odyssey. (Surprise to me, since I thought they were the same as mermaids.) Though some languages use the same words for siren and mermaid, technically they are different creatures. They are also different from the harpy, another mythical creature, who have the bodies of birds, with the head (and sometimes bust) of a woman. Plus, the connotation of a harpy is quite a bit different than that of the siren, don't you agree?
> 
> Anyway, Konoe's siren form is kind of a cross between a merman and a siren, if that makes sense, so a merman with wings, I think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed update for this poor series, this short chapter describes Rai and Konoe's extended stay at the hot springs. Konoe recruits Aoba for some help, regarding Rai's recent obsession with his newly-discovered Siren form.
> 
> There's some messing around in this one--no sex, but some power struggles between Rai and Konoe. They are working things out.

We spend a few more days at the onsen together, and I enjoy myself, for the most part. My preference is to stay away from the salt water as much as possible, despite near _constant_ coaxing from Rai. He applies quite a bit of pressure to me to “have a nice saltwater soak” with him, or spend some “romantic, sexy time” with him in the baths, but when all is said and done, the transformation into my Siren form takes too much energy out of me, not to mention the discomfort.

I appreciate that Rai enjoys my other to-me-still-kind-of-monstrous form, but to be honest, I’m not entirely comfortable in that form. I don’t know what to do with those wings or that weird fishtail if I'm not in the water, and public sex isn't really my thing (I may be desperate, but I am _just_ not interested in doing it in the hot springs! It just isn't sanitary, first of all, and second, I don't _want_ an audience). Plus, the way Rai acts around me when I’m in my Siren form frightens me a little. Not to say that he _doesn’t_ frighten me when I’m in my Ribikan form—because he can _easily_ do that as well when he puts his mind to it. He is pretty much frightening all around, and it isn't easy to forget that I’m _not_ actually here of my own free will—he reminds me on a regular basis that I’m “his,” when he tugs on my nipple piercings, or when he pulls on my earring with his teeth.

Still, I don’t like the memory of creaking flesh (when my wings break through the skin)—and part of me doesn't want to hurt his feelings by saying so directly, but it really is _painful_ to transform, and it’s _exhausting_. However—I realize it’s probably somewhat less taxing on him if I have to rest afterward. I may be slightly lower maintenance when I’m resting than when I stay in my Ribikan form, since frankly, since my body has healed, my sex drive has come back in full force, almost as bad as I was on the ship while I was in heat, and I can’t seem to get myself under control. We spend a _lot_ of time together in the bedroom. Perhaps part of him needs a break, and getting me to rest and recover from that transformation lets him do just that. But if that is really the case, couldn't he just say so? However, I sleep more than he does anyway—probably because of the difference in our ages, and also because of how we expend our energy during intercourse. He is making me work a lot harder, I notice—during sex, I mean.

I am able to sneak away from our room while he is in the shower for a short and private conversation with Aoba, specifically regarding transformations during our stay. I really appreciate having another person to talk to about these things, especially since there is some tension between Rai and me about this issue. He has some interesting information to share, as he too has experienced the same kind of transformation, and his are equally painful. His lover, Koujaku, seems to be applying pressure to transform more frequently, as well, making Aoba wish he’d never transformed in the first place.

“I’m not sure why I _ever_ even agreed to soak in the onsen!” Aoba sighs in exasperation. “Seriously, Koujaku _won’t_ leave me alone now. I’m not sure what the attraction is, but it’s like an obsession. It kind of hurts my feelings—like he isn’t interested in me unless I’m in my Siren form. Doesn't he find me attractive as a cat?”

I have to say that I understand Aoba's feelings somewhat, although Rai _hasn't_ been acting like my Ribikan form is anything less than my Siren form. He mostly uses teasing to bring up the issue, and I am probably overly sensitive about it, and my awkwardness is getting in the way of being direct about my feelings. I have to confess that Aoba's statements pique my curiosity, and I then poke my nose in where it doesn't belong. Because Aoba is a Siren too, I ask some personal questions that are atypical of my normal reserved self. However, there aren’t any other Sirens around, and I don’t have anyone else to ask or to compare myself to, either. I want to see what might be considered “normal,” as far as applying pressure and whether I should agree to transform for Rai's sake, even if it is a little painful. Is it selfish of me to want to save myself from pain? If not, how should I deal with my sex drive in that case? 

“So—how was it?” I ask, trying to remain as vague as possible. I don’t have much experience talking to other cats, especially not about personal issues. My only other experience is with Tokino, and we certainly never talked about sex.

“How was what?”

“Well, the sex?” I find myself blushing for even asking the question.

“Oh, you mean while in Siren form?” Aoba doesn't blush at all but looks up at me, surprised. “I’m shocked you’re even asking, Konoe.” He smiles. “You seem so reserved—totally not the type to be interested in this—unless… could there be a specific reason you’re asking me? Like are you having problems with your own love life?”

“Well, there’s no one else I can really talk to about this, and I don’t know if I can keep Rai at bay much longer. He’s really applying pressure to me, and I would really rather avoid the pain of transformation if I can. However, if he enjoys it that much, maybe it would be worth it, to some extent. You know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah, _that_ kind of pressure,” Aoba rolls his eyes. “Koujaku is exactly the _same_. He is obsessed! I don’t know what it is, but if and when I _do_ transform again, I swear to gods, our roles are going to reverse!”

“Oh!” I blush again. “Now, that’s not a bad idea. That’s what happened our first time. But it wasn’t a physical connection. It was through song, I think.”

“What? Are you serious? _You_ actually took _Rai_ —your first time in your Siren form? I mean, even if it was through song—I just can’t see it. I mean, we’ve done that, too, through song, I mean, but I've _never_ topped. But now, I mean, _physically_. Especially if he drags me into the hot springs like he’s threatening to do.”

“What? He’s threatening to _drag_ you there?” I’m sure I sound horrified. “Doesn’t he know that the transformation is physically painful?”

“Oh, he knows. But I think _he_ thinks it’s worth it,” Aoba replies. “And anyway, I think my experience of pain might be a _little_ different from your experience of pain if you know what I mean.” He smiles at me lightly.

I look at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“You are such an innocent little thing, Konoe. It’s one of the things that makes you so damn _cute_. Seriously.” My ears burn at his remark because I think I actually _do_ understand. “Some people rather _enjoy_ pain. _Especially_ in the bedroom. It can enhance things in a kind of an unusual way.”

I don't say anything, and I am not able to meet his eye. I _wanted_ to talk about this, but I am not sure I needed _quite_ this level of detail.

“Your ears are pink again! Adorable! I think you know _exactly_ what I mean, don’t you? In fact, I bet Rai probably affects you the same way, doesn't he?”

“Um...” What else can I say?

“At any rate, Koujaku has a certain fascination with my fishtail and wings—and honestly, I’m not sure I mind all that much. The sensations are pretty cool, don’t you agree? Are yours super sensitive, too?” 

“Actually, they _are_ really sensitive! Um, could you fly and swim, too?” I'd rather not talk about specific sensations.

“Yeah! It was like I’d been doing it all my life! It was weird. But mostly, I _really_ wasn’t interested in flying _or_ swimming, thanks to Koujaku. He was able to distract me enough to do… _other_ things. I wanted to ask you, Konoe—if you sang in your Siren form, and it sounds like you did, _especially_ if you were able to overtake Rai. I was _finally_ able to—and it came out like a mist—like a silver mist—and it got over everything! It was amazing! I wonder if that’s what made Koujaku the way is his about that form, actually. I think that’s _why_ he’s so obsessed.” Aoba’s voice was lowered almost conspiratorially now. 

Huh, I think. The gold mist. I hadn't thought about it. If that's the case, did I cause Rai's obsession myself, too?

At that point in our conversation, Koujaku enters the lobby across the room from where Aoba and I are lounging in chairs, and he makes a beeline toward us. I get a little self-conscious when I see him, so I agree with Aoba quickly and try to end the conversation.

“Yeah, that happened to me, too, only my mist is gold. It was enough to drive Rai to the edge if you get my meaning, but we should probably change the topic since we have company.”

Aoba looks up and smiles at his lover, opening his arms wide in a welcoming gesture, as if he _wasn’t_ , in fact, just discussing their love life with me so specifically.

“Hi, honey,” Aoba says sweetly. “Nice to see you.”

“What are you two discussing so secretively over here in the corner?” Koujaku asks curiously, giving me a suspicious look, taking his lover in his arms. “You look awfully guilty.” 

“N-nothing,” I stammer, and Aoba tosses me a dirty look as if I just gave away some state secret.

“Actually, Konoe and I were _just_ discussing our love lives,” Aoba replies directly, much to my surprise, “specifically, how _annoying_ our partners can be when they obsess about one particular form to the detriment of the other, and how we might deter them from that behavior, and I’ve come up with the _perfect_ solution.”

“Have you?” Koujaku’s face lights up joyfully. “I’d _love_ to hear it, and I’m sure Rai would as well. Shall I fetch him for you, Konoe?”

“Uh, no,” I glance down at my feet timidly. I don't want to be in the middle of this, not with Koujaku here. “That really won’t be necessary. This is _all_ Aoba. I have _nothing_ to do with this.” I realize I’m a little timid around Koujaku. He is indeed infatuated with Aoba, but I can’t get the image of him as a darker version of my captain out of my head when he’s around sometimes. And he smells good. And I’m… well, terribly horny. Again. Maybe it's time to head back and find my own cat.

“I see,” Koujaku smiles. “So, let’s hear it.”

“We’re _switching_ ,” Aoba states proudly. “The next time saltwater comes into play, we. Are. Switching.” He playfully pokes Koujaku in the chest to emphasize each one of those last three words.

“Switching? As in?” Koujaku looks slightly confused.

“Reversing roles,” Aoba lowers his voice to nearly a whisper, leaning toward his lover’s face. “ _I’ll_ be fucking _you_. If you drag me off into that saltwater, _I’ll_ be the one fucking _you_.”

Koujaku’s eyebrows raise significantly, and his face breaks into a wide smile. “Oh, _really_? And you think _that’s_ going to happen?”

“I do.”

“Really? Maybe we should try it right now, then! I even _dare_ you!” He starts to stand up, even more excited than the look on his face.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Koujaku, because as it turns out, I got the idea from _Konoe_.”

“You did not!” I protest immediately, shocked that he would say such a thing. I mean, he's basically just thrown me under the bus with his statement!

“What?” Koujaku flashes his eyes at me. “What do you mean?”

Aoba says smugly, “He said the first time _he_ was in his Siren form, _he_ wasn’t the one bottoming.”

Koujaku’s mouth drops open, and he freezes in place, unable to speak for a moment. A heavy silence hangs in the air, and just at that moment, the door to the lobby swings open, and who should walk in? I’ll give you one guess.

It's Rai. His hair is still dripping wet from the shower, I mean, he's barely bothered to towel it dry, and he looks _mad_.

I always forget how large of a cat he is. And he looks even bigger today—in fact, he looks fluffy, more a little perturbed, actually, his fur slightly ruffled, his tail bristled. Ugh. Probably because when he got out of the shower, I wasn't in the room where he expected me to be. He's pissed.

“He’s such a big guy, Konoe!” Koujaku says quickly, in a hissed whisper looking in Rai's direction. “I mean, even in your Siren form, you’re _not_ that big! How in the _hell_ did you manage that? Shit, I don’t think _I_ could even—” 

“ _Shut_ your mouth!” I hiss. I don’t want _that_ image running through my head! Gods—a dark _and_ a light captain— _together_ —gods—I can’t even imagine—well, actually, I _can_ imagine, but I _really_ shouldn't—what the  _fuck_! Talk about fantasy material! “We Sirens can do a _lot_ with our song, you know! It’s best not to underestimate us,” I respond quickly and quietly while smiling up sweetly at the silver cat, who has come to fetch me.

“Where have you been, Siren?” He is _definitely_ not pleased. “Why aren’t you in your room, where you are supposed to be? Where I was expecting you?”

“I-I had some business to discuss with Aoba,” I reply, suddenly timid.

“As it happens, I also have some ‘business’ with you,” Rai says. “Come.”

“ _Business_?” I ask. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

He doesn't bother asking if I was finished, he just grabs my arm and pulls me up to stand. “Be quiet. Let’s go.” 

With that, my conversation with Aoba comes to a close, and I leave Koujaku standing there in amazement, but I _don’t_ think he ends up dragging Aoba back into the hot springs. He needs to learn something about having a _little_ consideration for others in any case.

As far as Rai goes—he is probably a lost cause, I suppose—at least, that’s what is running through my mind as I am trailing behind him down the hall.

“What are you even doing out there?” I hear him mumbling, under his breath. “You weren't supposed to leave our room without me. Those two have _nothing_ to do with us. And you need to stay _away_ from Koujaku. He’s got it out for you after all.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I snap. “I was only talking to Aoba, and Koujaku showed up just before you did. He’s got everything he could ever want in Aoba—he’s head over tail for his Siren. He’d _never_ do anything to me! You need to get a grip.”

Those words barely out of my mouth, I am violently pushed up against the wall, squeezing another surprised noise out of me, Rai looking down at me angrily.

“You know _nothing_ about how the minds of other cats work,” he growls. “You leave yourself much too open, too vulnerable. You shouldn’t even be out in the lobby like that! Don’t you ever learn?”

“You’re just too possessive,” I say quietly, looking down.

“Are you talking back to me now?” His voice raises, quite frighteningly, he grabs my chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “Are you _trying_ to get into a power struggle with me? Do you really want to see what happens when you do that? I think you may be forgetting yourself.”

I just stare at him, not saying anything. What could I say at that point that would change his mind or calm him down? However, I do have something I can do. My secret weapon.

I stand on tiptoe and press my lips to his, gently, grabbing his collar so I can reach. I pull away slightly and then press them to his again once more. He returns my kiss passionately and possessively, releasing my chin and running one hand through my hair, pulling my waist closer to his body. I also run my hands through the silver strands of his hair, pulling him close, letting him explore my mouth with his tongue, relaxing my body in his arms as he pushes me harder against the wall.

“You smell so good,” Rai whispers. “Come back to the bedroom.”

“Isn’t it nicer to just _ask_ me to come back to the bedroom with you?” I murmur softly against his mouth. “I would _love_ to obey a command like that—if you came out and whispered that in my ear, I would be _delighted_ to obey. Why do you have to come out and make such a _fuss_?”

“Konoe,” the power of his voice suddenly flows through me at the sound of my name on his lips. “You are my Siren and my slave. I caught you on the island of Sisa, as it happens, and you are bound to obey my commands. I can do _whatever_ I like _however_ I like _whenever_ I like with you.”

“That may be the case, but I don’t have to like it,” I look right back in his eyes as I retort my response. 

“You can say that, little Siren,” Rai purrs—and we are still standing in the hallway at this point, “you can say that _all_ you like. However, your body betrays you. Your _body_ likes it quite a lot. See? Right _here_.”

His large hand palms my groin—which does, in fact, indicate that I am currently experiencing a certain degree of excitement.

In my rashness, I blurt out, “Well, how do you know this isn’t just leftover from my fantasy of Koujaku taking you?"

“Your _what_?” Rai looks at me, stunned.

“I mean, come on—you got to see me and Aoba—I never got to see anything of the sort,” my voice has taken on a fairly whiny tone at this point in our conversation.

“You are being quite obstinate. Are you trying to get in trouble? I think when I get you back to our room, I may remind you of a different fantasy altogether: perhaps the _belting_ I gave you on deck.”

As soon as he mentions that, my dick goes rock hard beneath his hand, and my body simply melts into his.

“As I said, your body _betrays_ you. I won’t use a belt, but I think a punishment may be in order. Gods, Konoe— _what_ am I going to do with you?”

He picks me up over his shoulder, smacking my ass with his hand—and the most _delightful_ shudder ripples through my body—all the way down to the tip of my tail.

“I _felt_ that, you know,” he murmurs, and I feel him purring as he walks me back to our room. “I _know_ you like it. Maybe I just need to figure out a way to exhaust you. Is _this_ the answer, perhaps? What am I going to do to you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mean to be neglecting this series--I've just been flooded with ideas for the other ones at the moment. :) I wanted to add a fun little chapter here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So--this chapter actually takes place *before* the one-shot I wrote earlier. I realized I had forgotten to finish it--I was a little distracted by the hot fan art of Rai (thanks, Foxyladycps). :)
> 
> Jealous Captain Rai has dragged Konoe back to his room and is looking to discipline his Siren.
> 
> Trigger warning: there is some intimidation in this chapter, and yes, a spanking. It's not terribly traumatic, however, as you have come to expect in this series. It's just these two need to get their act together. 
> 
> And use some safe words. There are no safe words in Sisa.

I realize Rai is quite serious when he gets me back to the bedroom. I’m always a little intimidated when he goes into full capital-C-Captain mode—I can’t help remembering the first time I laid eyes on him when I was cowering in the corner, and he grabbed me like I was his property. He _still_ treats me this way, I realize—the power dynamic hasn’t shifted very much—and he uses it to his full advantage.

When he puts me on the bed, I find I’m more than a little annoyed that he interrupted my conversation with Aoba. I’m also annoyed that I’m intimidated by his current full-captain mode. I’m even _more_ annoyed that it turns me on as much as it does, but I’m going to just ignore that for now. I’m a Siren, I should have better control over myself when it comes to sex, shouldn’t I?

“You are way too possessive,” I state openly and directly. “It bothers me that you interrupted my important conversation because you couldn’t deal with your jealousy.”

I’m treated to a look of disdain, the likes of which I have only ever seen one other time—and that was on the deck of the _Joy_ , just before I was belted in front of the crew. Why is _that_ memory popping up into my head now, of all times? I shake my head as if that will clear it, but of course, it doesn’t, nor does the Captain change his expression.

“It bothers you, does it?” His voice is surprisingly low but still controlling.

“Yes, sir. It bothers me, _Captain._ ” I sneer his title in a snarky, sarcastic way. “I’m sorry, should I be kneeling at your feet?”

“At this point, that would probably help your case,” the low voice returns evenly, ever so matter-of-fact. “To me, it looks like you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Forgotten myself?”  
  
“Yes, forgotten your role. Your _place_.” He waits for a moment. “Are you choosing to disobey me?”

“Disobey?”

“Disobey my suggestions on how to make this a little easier for you. I’m only looking out for your best interests,” his voice is infuriatingly even.

“ _My_ best interests? Don’t you mean _your_ best interests? How does any of this have to do with what is good for _me_ , what _I_ want?”

“Siren, why don’t you get on your knees before we continue this little disciplinary session? I think that will help you collect yourself and cool your head.” Gods! His voice is so calm! It’s pissing me off.

“I’m fine right here, just the way I am!”

“Are you? Do you feel that you need assistance?”

“Assistance? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Even before the last word leaves my mouth, my back is pressed against the mattress, and the silver cat is above me. I didn’t even see him move. He is really fast! He knocks the wind out of my lungs in both surprise and from the force of hitting the mattress so hard.

“I gave you a chance to comply willingly. Now, we will do this _my_ way.” His voice is still low, but slightly heated. 

The obi is pulled from my waist, the robe stripped from my shoulders, and I am forcibly pressed to the ground on my knees while he sits on the edge of the bed, all in a single swift movement—again, faster than I can process. Only now, I am naked, my fur bristling, and his hand is resting on my shoulder, holding me in place.

“Do you feel you can comply now?”

“Get the fuck off of me!” I shout—I was talking, and he interrupted, and I don’t like this rough handling. What the hell is he doing? And where are my clothes? I start to struggle, and Rai presses my shoulder slightly, pushing me back to my knees.

“Let me know when you feel you are ready to comply.” Again, calm—utterly calm. “Then, we will discuss the situation at hand.”

I quickly give up my struggle—it’s useless, pretty much, and I’m honestly a little afraid. We haven’t done this before, and I’m not sure how serious he is being. Is he serious about this being a disciplinary session? 

I calm myself, trying to keep my fluffy tail in front of my lap to cover my nudity, but it won’t be still. My heart is pounding in my ears, and I’m hoping that staring at my tail will make it be still. It doesn’t. I feel his hand lift up from my shoulder, and I’m overcome with curiosity. I am compelled to look at his face. If I peek up at him, I might be able to tell how serious he is.

What is this even about?

Without lifting my face, I raise only my eyes, looking at him under my lashes. I can feel my heart racing in my mouth. I’m really actually afraid—almost as afraid as I was on deck—and _why_ am I thinking of that again? It’s not helpful to the situation at hand! I’m _mad_! I don’t _want_ to be turned on right now.

When I peek up at his face, I see just an upward curve of a smile flash across his lips, before the serious Captain’s face shows up again.

“Are you able to control yourself?”

“Yes,” although my voice comes out a little irritated.

“Do you wish to register a complaint?”

“Do I _what_?” I can’t believe my ears.

“I said,” Rai’s fingers tip my chin up to meet his gaze. “Do you wish to register a complaint? Do you have an issue with my treatment of you?”

The rage I’ve just suppressed, the anger that I’ve just managed to calm, all the injustice—it boils up and over in a flash.

“Yes, gods damn it, I wish to register a fucking complaint!” I snap.

“Hou?” he hums. “Let’s hear it, then. I suppose asking you to issue it respectfully would be out of the question?” 

How the fuck is he so calm? Is he deliberately provoking me?

“Where the hell do _you_ get off dragging me off in the middle of my fucking conversation, like you fucking _own_ me? What the hell is that about? I hate it! I will _not_ be treated like a fucking possession! I refuse!”

“Hou?” he hums again. “Do you think you could use the word 'fuck' any more times in a single outburst? That was impressive. Anything else bothering you?”

“Why am I kneeling? Why the fuck did you strip me?” 

“All valid questions, which I will answer. Anything else?” Still calm—that pale blue eye looks almost icy cool—except—there’s the hint of a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. And it’s really aggravating me!

“I’m fucking pissed!”

“I can see that. Anything else? Any other complaints?”

I’m grumbling, my fangs bared, a growl in my throat, even after getting this out of my system, I do not feel any better.

“Is that everything?” Rai asks me, tilting my chin up to his face again, meeting my hot glare with his cool, calm gaze.

“I think so,” I huff.

“Konoe,” he starts, and all the hair on my body stands upright when he says my name, in preparation for his command. “Why don’t you get yourself comfortable on my lap while I answer your questions?”

What? To my shame and embarrassment—and I really do _try_ to resist—I crawl up from the ground over his lap. I’m naked—exposed—but I rest my upper body on the mattress, letting my legs drop off over the side of the bed. I bury my face in my arms.

Gods damn it. He commanded me! He commanded me and humiliated me!

Fuck this. Fuck _him_.

No, like, literally, I’d _really_ like to fuck him right now. Shit, gods damn it! What is  _wrong_ with me? Why do I find this entire exchange so damn hot?

“Your ears are red, Konoe,” he says quietly. Another shiver goes through my body. “Would you like me to address your concerns?”

I feel his hands stroking my bare skin gently—but dangerously—and only now do I realize now why he stripped off my clothes. Oh— _that_ kind of disciplinary session. 

A small tug on my tail lifts my ass up a little higher on his lap, and his touch feels—oh—it feels damned good.

“Yes,” I whisper. 

“All right, if I have your attention, perhaps you will recall, I asked you not to leave the room without first letting me know where you were going. When I got out of the shower, you weren’t here, and I was worried. You may think nothing of it—but I feel responsible for you—for your physical well-being, for your emotional well-being, for your care—and when you weren’t here, naturally I was upset.”

He continues stroking my tail, caressing my ass lightly, my lower back, my thighs, as he talks, as though this is the "natural" thing to do.

“Konoe, your words earlier, you said, I dragged you off as if I owned you. Have you forgotten? I actually _do_ own you. You are _mine_.”

I feel a tiny tug on the chain between my nipples. And yes, I had forgotten. It possibly slipped my mind.

“You’ve had a lot of freedom on this island—and that freedom has gotten you into some trouble. I feel like I haven’t done a good job of looking after you, either—with… all the things that have happened to you. One option is that I could keep you restrained at all times, which is what _most_ owners do to their slaves. I’d like to avoid that, if possible.”

He strokes my pierced ear, and I shiver.

“Another option would be to offer you a gentle reminder that you are _mine_. You do not have to care for the worries of this world—I will look after everything for you. But you do, in fact, _belong_ to me. So when you are angry that I treat you like a possession, it confuses me. When you say you ‘refuse’ to be treated as such, I might offer you a reminder that you have no such choice.”

More caresses to my ass, brushing up against my sensitive sit spot, threateningly.

“I had you kneel to put you in your place, to remind you of your role—you are the _slave_. You are _my_ Siren, Konoe. And I stripped you—well, I think you’ve probably figured it out by now—to make this disciplinary session slightly more convenient for me.”

I shiver at the sound of his voice—he really is scary, even and  _especially_ when he isn’t yelling. He has had his own command for years, and he can command me with just my name. Even when he says the words, “You are my Siren, Konoe,” those words sink into my ears and into my heart, ruffling up my fur. Not entirely unpleasantly, either, I hate to admit.

“I don’t wish to keep you bound and gagged for the rest of your life, although if you behave like this in the future, I will do what is necessary to force your obedience.”

Force my obedience?

Shit. Is he being serious? I thought this was in exchange for—I thought—wasn’t this—wait—

“Rai—” A small protest comes from my mouth when I feel his hand cupping my ass softly. “Wait— _please_ —wait—”

“Another complaint?” A deep sigh. “Out with it, then.”

“W-wasn’t this supposed to be, um, i-in exchange for, you know…” I purposely let my voice trail off vaguely.

“In exchange? What was supposed to be in exchange for what?”

“You said you would, um,” my ears are burning now, and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to say it. “You would t-take m-me over your knee i-if I let you…”

“If you let me what?” I might be mistaken, but I think Rai might be _smiling_. I take a quick glance over my shoulder, and he is _actually_ smiling. What the hell? Is he _enjoying_ this? “If you let me _what_?”

He’s going to make me _say_ it? Like hell. Fuck this. It’s not worth it. He can spank me as much as he wants—hell, I’ll probably even like it, but I’m _not_ going to say this. I stubbornly lower my face to the mattress, my ears on fire.

“Siren,” his voice suddenly barks, and I jump. “Konoe, look at me and finish your question.”

Shit. I try to press my lips together, but it hurts too much to disobey a direct order. I have to comply—when he says my name, I _have_ to comply.

“You’re too cruel,” I whine, looking over my shoulder.

“You shouldn’t blush so prettily, then,” he smiles right at me. “You were asking?”

“You said you would take me over your knee if I let you fuck me in my Siren form. Isn’t this what we are doing here? Why are you being so mean about this?”

“Mean?” Rai looks a little surprised, and then his smile deepens. “You think _this_ is mean? Siren, I’m not using a belt or a hairbrush. I haven’t even gotten started. Give me a little credit here.”

He reaches out toward my ears again. “Gods, your ears are too cute.”

I lower my face back to the mattress, and then he stops me.

“Wait.”

Oh, no. I have a very, very bad feeling.

Several pillows are roughly shoved underneath my chest, propping me up a little bit higher on the bed.

“I want to see your face.”

No! I can’t! 

“Konoe, I want to see your face. Show me your face.” His hands start stroking my tail again, and roughly, yanking my ass up a little higher, lifting me up on his lap. “Fold your legs underneath your body, raise yourself up for me a little more. Are you comfortable?” 

“No, not at _all_!” I complain, but I’m looking right at him—facing him—at least exposing my face to him, though my eyes remain closed. “ _Please_ —don’t make me do this—” 

The first smack comes down against my sit spot—and it’s not very hard, but it surprises me and it makes me cry out. It stings—just because Rai’s hand is so large and covers so much area—and I wonder how the hell someone could get _good_ at spanking. Discipline, I get. But how the hell does he know how to _spank_ someone so it feels like this?

He spanks me again—the same way, stroking my tail when he’s done, and that sends another shiver up my spine. If I open my eyes, I can see his eyes moving from my ass to my face. This is—I’m not sure if I feel humiliated or really, really sexy—or a little bit of both. 

The third time he spanks me, to my surprise, my lower back arches up to meet his hand. I _want_ his touch. _Bad_ —I want it very much.

His hand slips in-between my cheeks, rubbing out most of the stinging sensations and making my skin tingle.

“You’re getting pink already—though not as pink as your ears. When I’m finished here,”—smack—“your ass is going to be as pink as your ears.”

Smack!

Each time his hand connects to my skin, I can feel something coming loose in my chest, breaking open—like a flower bursting into bloom. The pain from the spanking singes my nerves—and I feel myself submitting to the power behind his touch, lifting myself up a little more each time, leaning into it.

He is moving his hand a little faster now, and some of the blows are landing on the backs of my thighs—and these actually hurt—making me cry out—but because he is playing with my tail at the same time, I am confused as to which sensations are pleasure and which are pain.

Compared to the belting he gave me on deck, this is a much, much milder punishment, and he is my only audience. The fact that he is watching me so closely—watching my face—at first, I _hate_ it. I don’t like the feeling of him watching me, not at all.

Then, I open my eyes, and I realize something. I can see _his_ expression, too. It is not at _all_ calm, it is not at _all_ cool, it is not at _all_ collected. He is incredibly aroused and excited. He’s enjoying this at least as much as I am, if not even more.

I forgot—he loves power—he loves feeling dominant. Should I be offended? Should I be insulted? Should I feel hurt? Should I feel disgusted?

I don’t feel any of those things. If anything—it turns me on that I can affect him this way—that I, Konoe from Karou, am affecting Rai, Captain of the pirate slaving ship, _The Murderous Joy_ , in this way. I don’t give a flying fuck what the implications of these feelings might be. It turns me on!

Is this all a game?

As soon as I realize I can watch his facial expressions change—and they do change—every time whatever is happening inside my body opens up a little more, and I reach out a little more—he reacts—I cannot look away. I can’t help myself. My voice is crying out loudly—perhaps I started out crying out in pained yelps, but my cries now—they are _not_ cries of pain. They are cries of yearning. I’m crying out to be touched _more_. 

Each moment he pulls his hand away becomes painful.

My thighs start to quiver and I can feel myself leaking on his lap—probably ruining his robe—he will need to change when this is over—but I don’t plan on letting that be a problem—because as soon as he has had enough—as soon as he deems me sufficiently punished, sufficiently submitted to his will—I plan to overtake him.

I think he reads it in my face and I watch as the realization of my intent dawns in his eyes.

He speeds up the volleys, making me cry out a little louder, a little longer, and I push my ass back into his hand, willingly, never breaking eye contact.

The Siren inside my body breaks loose suddenly—and I hear a melody cracking open in my chest now—and Rai stops his hand. I take that moment to leap up and attack him, overwhelming him, covering his face, his neck, and his lips with kisses. I push him down against the mattress, straddling him, my ass burning with heat, and he returns my kisses fervently, grabbing my tail and massaging it firmly.

He listens intently to the song covering the room as we continue kissing, touching, caressing—and he allows me to strip off his robe.

And again—now I wonder—am I _his_ Siren or is he _my_ prey?

This was indeed a much-needed disciplinary session.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his rather racy night with Koujaku and Rai, Konoe is pulled aside by Aoba, who is quite annoyed with him, wondering what the hell went on last night—without him!
> 
> Trigger warnings: references to sex and non-consensual activities.

I’ve kindly let Rai know I was going to grab a snack when Aoba corners me in the hallway. He actually grabs the collar of my robe, quite forcefully, much to my surprise, and says, “Konoe, we need to talk.”

He really looks displeased, and he pulls me into his bedroom—at least, I assume it’s his bedroom. Fortunately, Koujaku isn’t in here—it’s just the two of us.

“Aoba, what’s wrong?” I ask.

“What’s _wrong_?” He repeats my words in an almost mocking tone. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?”

He pushes me up against the wall, very suddenly, and with a lot more force than I would have expected, knocking the wind from my lungs. It makes the fur fluff up on my tail and ears, and I’m shocked at the violence. I can’t even get a word out before he growls lowly.

“What were you doing last night?”

“Um, last night?” That was the dreamy night of sex—with Rai and Koujaku, I think. And it really did happen, too. I breathe in sharply. Didn’t Aoba know about it and approve? Oh, shit. And now he blames me? Oh shit, oh shit.

“Yes, last night! Was Koujaku with you? Did you spend last night with my lover?”

“Aoba—when I woke up in my bed last night—well, here’s what happened,” I try to explain.

Aoba is still pushing me up against the wall, strongly, and he is not happy.

“Do you think you could let me down for a minute while I tell you want happened?”

“You’re a fucking _Siren_ , Konoe! You have _Rai_ —he’s a captain, for gods’ sake! Why do you need my Koujaku, too?”

“That’s not it,” I struggle to get out of Aoba’s grip. “I went to sleep in my room, with Rai, like normal. And when I woke up, Koujaku was there, in my room. With Rai. They had been smoking catnip together and had been drinking, as well. Rai was, um, restrained, and Koujaku said something about trying to help me—”

“Did you fuck him?”

“I didn’t want to—but he pulled me off Rai, he commanded me, and he fucked me. And then he told Rai about commanding me to come a second time and demonstrated.”

“So you fucked him?”

“Aoba, he commanded me! I didn’t have a choice! I’m so sorry. I though you knew—I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Aoba shoves me down to the ground harshly.

“Damn it!”

I cower on the floor for a moment, afraid of what he might do. I’d assumed Koujaku had Aoba’s permission, but I must have been wrong.

“I’m so sorry. I thought he had your consent—”

“No, he commanded me to _sleep_! So he could fuck you! I don’t think he loves me anymore!”

“B-but that’s not even what this was about!” I argue. “I think he just—I think he was trying to help, and he was trying to thank Rai for bringing you together. When he fucked me, it wasn’t—it wasn’t personal.”

“Did he _rape_ you?” Aoba is horrified.

I fall silent. _Was_ it rape? It wasn’t consensual, not exactly. He commanded me—but is that really what it was? I feel slightly sick from my place on the floor. I can’t accuse Aoba’s precious partner of such a thing—not now, not after what has been done to us both.

“No. It was voyeurism that got out of control. He overheard us when you and I were talking and wanted to see me, um, topping.”

“So—you actually topped.” Aoba sounds doubtful.

“I did,” I say, and I add, “with Koujaku’s help and kinbaku bondage—and oh, my gods—does he use that on you? The kinbaku bondage? It’s so hot!” I get a little aroused thinking about it.

Suddenly, Aoba stops his huffing. I think, but I’m not sure—I think I get a glimpse of his Siren.

“Kinbaku? Rai was tied up? When you say he was _restrained_ , Koujaku used red rope?”

“Yes,” I respond, “I don’t think it would have worked any other way.”

Aoba pauses again. “I see. Only _he_ could have done that for you, I suppose. Perhaps it was a gift. Hmm.”

Have I been forgiven?

“I didn’t want him touching Rai. I growled when he touched Rai, and then he stopped. I know he was only trying to help. And I think he only became overwhelmed in the moment when he touched me. I did not allow him to participate otherwise.”

“I see,” Aoba looks at me.

“He also told Rai he can command me to... er, you know, come.”

“To come where?” Aoba is slightly confused.

“You know—to climax?” I blush.

“Rai didn’t _know_ that? My gods, what has he been commanding you to do, then, Konoe? Swab the deck?” Aoba gives me a sideways glance. “Seriously—you’ve been surviving with just one? How? Ah—things make so much more sense, all of the sudden!”

I get another sideways glance and a soft sympathetic smile. “You’re going to start feeling so much better now. You’ve been such a ball of nerves ever since I’ve met you. Three is the _minimum_ —I find—for a decent day.”

“Three what?” I ask.

“Oy, you poor thing. I will have Koujaku talk to Rai,” Aoba strokes my ears kindly. “If I didn’t think Rai would kill me, _I’d_ help you right now. You’re a _Siren_! Don’t you feel it in your blood, Konoe? You know, the _need_?”

Maybe it’s because he’s older than I am. I did only _just_ go through the heat, though, so maybe it’s just a difference in age? I don’t know.

“Thank you, Aoba.”

“I hear you’re leaving soon. Rai saved the mother of my child, so I will be a father. He spoke to Koujaku on my behalf, too—he’s kind of your child, too, I suppose. I’m excited. I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

I’m happy for him—and something in my mind is tickled. Will I be a father, too? Did Rai save the other woman?

“Koujaku says you’re returning to Sisa. Rai was a commander in the Royal Navy before he devoted his life to finding you. He is planning to return to Ransen, I hear, with you in tow.”

“Aoba,” I interrupt, “Do you feel like you stand on equal ground with Koujaku?”

“Oh, yes,” Aoba answers without hesitation.

“I mean, does he consider you ‘his’?”

“Yes,” Aoba answers, “but, of course, he is mine, too.”

“But he doesn’t treat you as his property?” I venture.

“No, he does not. However, Koujaku has many regrets. He regrets letting me go to Mink. He believed I went willingly, at the time, you see.”

I shift on my feet. 

“You haven’t removed your ear piercing,” I point out. 

“No,” Aoba says. “I feel it sort of protects me here. I don’t mind being ‘owned’ by Koujaku so much, as long as he treats me as I deserve. And I’ve found a way to overpower him, if I need to, as long as I have some saltwater—thanks to you, of course.” Aoba gives me a wink.

I sigh deeply.

“I don’t know how to assert myself with my Captain,” I confess quietly. 

“You’ve already takes him—twice now, right?” Aoba confirms.

“He loves control. He commands me not to move, restrains me with words and commands me not speak, when he grooms me or when we have sex sometimes,” I confess, even more quietly, shamefully. 

“Ooooh,” Aoba shivers. “That sounds delightful.”

What? Is he serious? I look at him.

“Well, isn’t there a part of you that really enjoys it? You know—you _are_  more powerful than he is, so having your power temporarily taken away is pretty hot,” Aoba looks at me directly. “Or if you don’t, tell him, beg. I find if you use his name—or you sing—he _has_ to stop. Sometimes you have to say his name three times for it to work, though. I don’t know if it’s just with Koujaku, though.” 

Is that true? I can get him to stop? 

“Konoe, I don’t know if you’ve realized—it may be difficult for you, since you are young and quite innocent—but you are the _predator_. I’m sure in some ways you have captivated that silver cat, and he is yours for life now. Do you understand?” Aoba continues. “Nothing he does to you should ever, ever be without your consent. You have the power to control him—even if he does not realize you are doing it.” 

“Aoba, I’m his _slave_!” I cry out suddenly. “I have these piercings. I cannot stop him from doing _anything_ to me! What are you saying? I mean, I know that the Siren living inside me will suddenly speak to him—and for some reason, he listens to _him_ —but not to _me_. I’m just Konoe from Karou!” I had no idea I was feeling this desperate.

“Konoe—you _are_ that Siren. You may think it’s a separate being from you, and it may feel that way, perhaps from trauma,” Aoba is speaking softly to me, gently, like he might to a child. “I don’t know how that happened. But that Siren is indeed you—not just a _part_ of you, but as much you as your other form is, as much you as this crooked tail of yours. You just need to accept it, embrace it. It’s not some foreign monstrous thing. It’s beautiful—a gift. And powerful.”

I can only stare at Aoba. 

“I’m sure Rai likes to consider you ‘his,’” he continues. “However, he is as much _yours_ as you are his, and more so—he is your _prey_. Don’t forget it—and don’t let _him_ forget it of he does something or says something to you that you dislike. You have power in that relationship. You just need to embrace it and use it.”

His words make sense if he were speaking about someone else—some other cat—or perhaps the Siren that lives inside me, I suppose.

“You just look so doubtful, kitten.” He flashes me a gentle smile. “Go back to him. See if you can’t embrace some of that power—even while making him believe he’s in charge, if that is what he needs.” I feel his hand resting on my shoulder, as Aoba pulls me in for a soft embrace.

“All right,” I push my nose into his shoulder in a gesture of friendship. “Thank you for encouraging me.”

Aoba giggles a little. “You may not realize, but you have that silver cat wrapped around your little finger, Konoe.”

I sigh, and then I return to my room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed and tiny update to this neglected story. I’m trying to get back into these original stories. I feel they've been neglected for too long!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I'm so pleased with this chapter.
> 
> I do actually have material for Part V, but honestly--the way this chapter went was a little more intense than I expected, to put it mildly. It will change what I have planned, however, I'm pretty pleased with its development.
> 
> Would love some feedback--should I call the series quits at this point, or keep it going to a return to Sisa?
> 
> Konoe IS the Siren, bitches!
> 
> There is nudity, bathing, fluff and touching, references to sex and smut--but not actual porn in this chapter. Also, I left a summary at the end.

I rest for part of the afternoon, alone, in my room, while Rai is discussing plans for our trip. I’m honestly a bit confused about Aoba’s words. And quite possibly, I may be stewing.

I want to stand my ground—on my own two feet. How can I do that without defying Rai or making him feel insecure? What can I do without instigating his wrath?

Then, I get an idea. 

I take a shower and cover my body in catnip-scented oil. It has a lovely sheen and an even more enticing scent.I wrap myself in my yukata—doing an awfully crappy job—and sneak over to Aoba’s room for help.

“Please, Aoba—I need your help! Make look me beautiful like you!”

Aoba sees me, takes a deep breath—inhaling the catnip—and laughs. “Just drop your robe and you’ll be perfect!”

“No—that isn’t what I mean! I want to turn Rai’s head when I walk in the room. Show me how. Please!”

Aoba is flattered I’d ask, and so he gets to work. He pins my hair up and to the side, exposing my nape. He also drapes the yukata low in the back, showing off several vertebrae and my neck, and low in the front, so the gold chain between my piercing shows, without actually exposing my nipples.

“If he sits next to you, of course, he will see a little more, and that is good enough, I think. Now, let’s work on your walk. Own your Siren, but make it _yours_.” 

Aoba shows me how he walks and has me practice, giving me pointers on how to sit down and stand up—"No, Konoe! Don't just flop down like that!"—how to be coy, how to flutter my eyelashes—which I have down pat and he actually praises—and he shows me how to get immediate attention when I want it.

It’s very sexy: He grabs the collar of my robe, licks his lips just a little while lowering his eyes—only for a second—almost like it’s too much for him to take—and then looks me right in the eye. He makes my heart pound.

He also shows me the wall pound—which, frankly, isn’t going to work when someone my size does it. But what happens if it’s done to me? 

He shows me two ways to get out of it. The first means, hell _yes_ , let’s get going and you’re coming with me right now. The other is a quiet no, thank you, which Aoba calls the subtle GTFA (get the fuck away).

He says to me, “Your single best asset—the one thing that makes you so unique—is that you blush so easily. This going to a huge asset, even if you think it’s annoying. You’ll be doing something sexy and suddenly, a blush will show up—and the person watching you will be _captivated_. Own it, Konoe. It’s a perfect match with this innocent face of yours.”

“All right,” I sigh, somewhat defeated. I just don’t feel as confident as Aoba always is. 

“You sometimes have to pretend a little—fake it till you make it—pretend to be sexy, or remember a time when you felt sexy—like what were you like when you were in heat, for example? I heard yours lasted quite a while,” Aoba suggests.

I _was_ different then, I suppose. I couldn’t keep my hands to myself—I was a little scary, even. Perhaps if I used that, it would help—I consider it. 

“I see. Thank you so much. I have to get a few things ready in my room, I think, and then I’m off to my captain.” I give Aoba a sweet smile and dip my head in thanks. 

I visit the front desk and make a few inquiries—and they are willing to help me. They only require a few minutes to fulfill my requests, which is perfect, so I wander off to find my captain. He is meeting with Bardo and the other crew in one of the meeting rooms. I hope he’s almost finished—but even if he isn’t, I plan to interrupt him and grab his attention.

I listen at the door of the meeting room carefully—it sounds like they are making plans for restocking the ship. Bardo is talking about items he might bring back to resell in Sisa, so I slide the door open just enough to fit myself through and I slip inside. 

At first, I keep my face lowered humbly to the ground like the “slave” I am supposed to be—just until I locate my captain. He is using his captain’s voice to speak—his “inside captain’s voice,” I notice. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I _love_ the sound of his voice. It makes my stomach feel all fluttery!

Once I close the door behind myself, even as quietly as I manage, all conversation stops. While keeping my face lowered, I glance up through my eyelashes at the silver cat— _only_ at him, pretending no one else is in the room—meeting his pale blue gaze for a heated moment with just a hint of a smile on my lips.

I realize I’ve captured everyone’s attention, but I only want _his_. I slink across the room—walking slowly in the way that Aoba showed me—right over to my silver cat—and I sit down next to him, draping my body next to his, practically in his lap. 

I murmur softly, “I don’t mean to interrupt. I was just lonely. I was missing your scent.”

Several of the crew sitting at the table shift uncomfortably in the seats and Rai preens proudly, draping his arm around me. I see him lick his lips slightly and I can hear him swallow.

He clears his throat and tries to get on with the meeting—but it isn’t going smoothly. I am leaning against him, gently stroking his thigh through the fabric of his yukata under the table, and running my drawn claws through the fur of his tail, which is lashing back and forth rather agitatedly behind him.

I can see his eyes wandering—down the front of my robe—looking at the chain that is exposed so obviously—and when I glance up at him playfully, I notice he is watching the crew at the table observe me so obviously fawning over him. I gently press my nose to his shoulder—which really, is merely a gesture of friendship and an easy way for me to pick up his scent.

“So, um, I think—I think you all have your instructions. Let’s take a break for, um, dinner.” He finishes the conversation and pulls me up to stand quite roughly. Grabbing me by the waist, he practically drags me out of the room with his nose nuzzling my nape and the back of my hair.

We barely make it out of the hall with his breath ragged and rough, when he pins me to the wall—it’s that “wall slam” Aoba was talking about. I’m already planning to use the “hell yes” technique he showed me. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Siren? What are you up to?” His voice is hoarse and desperate—and I like the sound of it—I like it, even more, knowing _I_ am its cause.

“Nothing at all,” I say, batting my eyes at him, look straight into his and lifting my chin, exposing my throat. This indicates _I’m yours, do as you please with me_. “Just as I said—I missed your scent.”

He takes my lips right here in the hallway, and I return his kiss with fervor, letting his tongue invade my mouth deeply. He smells _so_ good, and he tastes even better.

When he pulls away, I take his hand and whisper, “We could take this to our room.”

“You—you are going to be the death of me,” he murmurs. Oh, he has no _idea_ exactly how accurate that statement actually is.

I pull him by the hand and lead him to our room—where the staff has set up a small table with alight meal—all chilled foods—and sake, the local alcoholic beverage, as well as a large bathtub, filled with steaming hot water.

“What is all this?” Rai asks, surprised, his cute rounded ears perking up.

“I just thought you might like a bath,” I say. “Perhaps I could wash your back for you.” I turn to face the silver cat directly when we come in. Then, I drop my gentle tone and order him to “strip.”

“All right, then.” He tilts his chin down slightly and smiles suggestively. Never shy about his body, my captain. 

Rai easily meets my gaze without looking away—and I watch his every movement while he unties the obi around his waist and lets it carelessly fall to the ground. He teasingly turns his back to me while he slips the silk yukata—he’s wearing an elegant silver and blue one today—slowly off his shoulders, turning his head so he still meets my eyes, and his hair falls to his waist in straight, smooth layers, covering much of his pale skin.

I’m always amazed to see his body—and that gorgeous luminescent skin. Although he has a few scars from his time at sea as a pirate, or possibly his time in the Navy, I don’t really know, if anything, the scars accent his beauty, rather than mar it, making the paleness stand out, making the luminescent sheen of it even more beautiful. And that tail—so full, fluffy, and white—and when he moves it like that—swishing it back and forth—it tickles my instinct to pounce. I think he knows it, too—but today, I resist. _Today_ —I am the Siren. 

When he turns toward me again, he has dropped his yukata to the floor as well.

“Will you serve me some sake, Konoe?”

When he uses my name, of course, I am compelled to obey, but I want to, as well. I pour it for him as he climbs into the bath—a single small cup. I hand it to him while he takes a seat in the tub.

Then, I strip—in front of him, meeting his eyes boldly at first—even when I feel a soft heat climbing up into my cheeks and ears, scattering down into my neck. After the first hints of that blush, however—once I feel the tips of my ears heating up, I shyly drop my eyes as well as my obi to the floor, and then glance back up at his face. _Is this okay?_ I seem to be asking.

His pupil is blown wide with desire. He is delighted—I don’t know if it’s my actions or my mannerisms. But he is definitely captivated, and I have his full attention.

Mimicking his movements, I also turn my body away as I slip my yukata—which is gold and red—from my shoulders, while maintaining a shy eye contact. When it gets to be too much for me—when my ears feel too hot, I glance down just for a second to pick up some imaginary courage from the ground—and then return his gaze once again through my dark lashes. I can feel something deep inside my body, something inside my chest, heating up. It’s new and unexpected—and it isn’t _only_ desire for this cat. It’s something much deeper, much rawer, a base emotion. 

It feels like _ownership_.

I look at the gorgeous, perfect beauty of the silver cat, sitting naked in the water, and realize he is _mine_. I have captured him, and I realize he is _all_ mine—from the tip of those small, rounded silky-soft ears to the tip of his irresistible, fluffy white tail—which is now soaking wet with lightly scented water. He may not realize it—but for the rest of his life, he _belongs_ to me. Every breath he takes will be for _my_ sake. He has been breathing every breath of the last eight years for _my_ sake—and he will continue to do so—because he is my prey. He is the prey of a _Siren_.

This is what it means to love a Siren.

It’s a little terrifying to own these thoughts—it’s almost as though I am sucking his vitality, his very life force, from him. And I want _nothing more_ than to do just this. I do it without shame or guilt. It’s as easy for me as breathing or sleeping or eating. Consuming this silver cat—fucking him or letting him fuck me—is exactly the same. It’s a simple necessity of life.

Does he know this? Does he really _need_ to know?

I wonder. I give a little twitch of my tail, swing my hips flirtatiously, and turn my now nude form toward Rai, leaving my tail where it is to cover my arousal coyly. I’m incredibly turned on to have come to this realization, and my own pupils are blown wide. I have a small shy smile on my face, and I climb into the tub, kneeling over my cat’s lap.

“Oy,” Rai protests slightly. “You aren’t going to be able to wash my back this way.”

“No. I’m not.” My voice is a murmur, soft, sexy, melodic. It sounds like the Siren’s, but this is _me_.

“Is this Konoe the kitten or am I speaking to the Siren?” Rai asks, and do I detect a tiny bit of fear in his voice? He should be afraid, I think—maybe just a _tiny_ bit.

“I _am_ the Siren,” I respond casually, taking a sip of sake from my own cup. Then, I fill up my mouth with a second sip and I press it to my captain’s lips—to feed it to him directly.

He accepts it from me willingly—even if he’s slightly surprised—but he seems pleased. After he swallows the sake, he comments drily.

“Ah—I’ve heard you can have this drink warm or chilled. Are you trying to warm it up for me? It’s quite nice warm, too.” 

“Would you like another sip?” I ask.

“I would,” Rai answers, watching my actions, intrigued. 

I offer him a second sip in the same way, and this time, his hands come up to the back of my neck and my shoulders, stroking my nape gently. I can’t help but make some appreciative noise when he touches me. It is nice having my neck available. I shall wear my hair up more often, I think.

“I like your neck bare like this. This part of you is amazingly attractive to me.”

“Aoba styled my hair for me. He said it’s tradition to show your nape when wearing this sort of dress. Perhaps you should try it as well.” Rai cleverly ignores my suggestion of styling his hair. I’ll ask again later, I think.  
  
“I noticed you also had the front draped low enough to show off a little glimmer of gold here,” Rai pulls gently on the chain between my piercing, sending a shock of stimulation through my nipples when he touches it. The piercings have healed incredibly—they don’t hurt at all now, not since Aoba sang for me. Now, I feel amazing pleasure when Rai plays with the chain or pulls or bites the piercings. However—the stimulation seems to go straight to my hips.

“I did. Aoba showed me how to do that as well."  
  
“Are you trying to seduce me?” Rai asks, quite directly. 

“Why? Is it working?” I smile impishly for a moment. “I was trying to get your attention. Like I said, I was lonely, and I felt I needed some attention,” I respond, now refusing to meet his eye.

I feel a lick on my ear—the pierced one. 

“Konoe,” Rai mumbles lowly. “When you walked into the room—all eyes were on you. Did you do that deliberately? Were you trying to raise my jealousy? Trying to draw the attention of my crew over mine?”

“I only want _your_ attention, Rai,” I answer honestly. “You are _my_ captain. You will always be mine. Tonight, I want to lather some special attention on you before you have to go back to work on the ship, where your attentions will be divided between the crew and me.” I keep my voice low and sexy, and I keep my hands on Rai’s face as I speak, now making direct eye contact with him. “I want to be with just you—and the real you—tonight. Do you understand?”  
  
Rai’s eye widens slightly.

“I’m always myself when I’m with you,” he says.

“No,” I insist. “First—are you in any pain? It seems you have been short of temper today. Is it because your head is bothering you?”

I move my hands behind his head, slowly, to where his eyepatch is tied behind his head. Immediately his hands come up to my wrists, gripping me tightly, and his body stiffens underneath me.

“Let me care of you, Rai. Let me take care of you tonight. I will sing for you—first.” That is the first time I ask.

His body does not relax.

“Rai, please, let me do this for you. It’s why I’m here.” That’s the second time—and I use his name again.

While his hold on my wrists loosens slightly, his body does not relax.

“I _want_ to care for you like this, Rai. Nothing would make me happier if I could sing for you. Let me do this for you, please. I beg you.” That was the third time—and I used his name then, too. I even feel a few tears coming into my eyes—earnest ones. I really do _love_ this silver cat—I _love_ my prey. I care for him very much—I _adore_ him.

 _Weird_. 

The third time I call his name and make my request, his body suddenly relaxes, and he releases my hands. A strange surprised sound comes out of his mouth—an almost shocked sound—as his hands fall into the water, and I waste no time. He looks so surprised, and I kiss him softly, nipping his bottom lip then his top lip very gently—but he cannot seem to respond to me. It’s like he’s momentarily paralyzed. It’s kind of empowering. 

I think Aoba was right. I _do_ have the ability to insist on getting my way.

“Thank you,” I whisper, as though he is _permitting_ me to do this for him, even though I know he is not. In fact, I wonder if he is still trying to resist me. I smile just a little when I think about it.

Untying the eyepatch from the back of his head, I remove it and drop it on the table next to the tub—next to the sake flask. My song begins, and I move my lips to this beautiful scar of his, the one he hides from the world. Only _I_ can see it. I saw it that first day we met, too—and I _remember_ the first day, quite clearly now, but as though I was seeing it as a third party, I see myself as a child. It’s such an odd memory, maybe it's the Siren's memory. I kiss him—running my tongue and lips across the stitching, and I feel him take in a sharp breath and then he relaxes. I am sitting on his lap, kneeling over him, my legs on either side of his body in the water, and I feel him loosely snake his arms around me—a wonderful tender gesture for the monster that I am.

I put my hands on his face, tilting it up so I can get to his eye at a better angle. I lick it—grooming it carefully, and I continue to sing. My body vibrates with a song unlike I’ve sung before. This song—it sounds like the type of healing song I sing for myself, but like the songs I sing in my Siren form, a golden mist rises from my mouth and nose when I sing. It’s a much finer mist than the thick mist that comes out of me in my other form, however—like a steam—and it’s warm, but not hot. It leaves a honeyed scent, and one of smelling slightly of orange blossom, behind, as well as a soft golden sheen. It covers Rai’s face, his neck, his hands, his arms, his hair, his chest—everything above the water. And he breathes it in when I kiss him. And I kiss him repeatedly.

Strange soft pleasured sounds come from the cat beneath me when I sing—unusual since he is usually so restrained and quiet in the bedroom—but now, I can hear him making strange noise. I _love_ it. 

“I _love_ to hear your voice, Rai. You should make more noise for me when we make love,” I whisper softly. “It’s _such_ an amazing turn-on.”

He’s surprised to hear me say something like that so directly. It sounds slightly dirty from my mouth, I have to confess.

“It’s _not_ what you think,” Rai says. “This… it tastes so good. It tastes like a memory. It tastes like the first time I met you. I think you did this to me the first time we met—when you helped me all those years ago.”

Deep inside my body, my Siren purrs loudly. _You were marking him. That is how you mark your prey. It is addicting—he would never be able to forget you after that mist._ But I don’t say that out loud. Rai doesn’t need to know that. Instead, I run my fingers through my hair and mark him some more. I’m making him mine. Healing his pain, making him feel better, making him feel good, deepening our bond, and making him _mine_.

When I finally pull away, my body still singing, I ask, “How is your pain? Is that better?” 

The silver cat who looks up at me looks so different now—much younger, much softer, like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders—like the weight of the _world_ has been lifted from his shoulders—and he _smiles_ at me. The smile is genuine, and it lights up his pale blue eye. I have never seen him smiling without his eyepatch—not like this, anyway. I’m keeping it off for the rest of the evening. Even his missing eye smiles. My heart leaps in my chest, and it aches.

I realize that I would kill for this cat. I would kill for his safety and well-being. I would do anything for him— _anything_ he asked of me. He is _mine_.

I kiss his lips softly again—like I did before—carefully—first his bottom lip then his top lip, and then I press my mouth against his and I trace his teeth carefully with my tongue, inserting my tongue into his mouth, exploring his large fangs. He has such nice, soft lips. I pull him closer, trying to brush the back of his throat, trying to get him to purr, which he does for me. I am already purring from the song I sang earlier.

I am content. I could stay right here, forever.

“Come, let me wash you,” I whisper.

As much as I would like to leave the gold shimmering scent on him, I have to get it out of his hair. I use shampoo to wash his hair, using a cup to soak it first, and then being careful to keep the soap out of his eyes. I use my fingertips to massage his scalp—and he likes this very much—his purring gets very, very loud when I do this. It's disarmingly cute.

“Do you enjoy this?” I ask softly, as I scrub the soft fur on his ears with shampoo. They flick down cutely, trying to avoid getting shampoo inside them, but I attack them just the same, tickling them purposely.

“I do not usually wash my hair so carefully,” Rai admits, his ears still trying to escape my fingers.

“Perhaps it should be my job,” I suggest, as I point his chin to look at my face for a moment, so he has to meet my gaze. I want him to know I am serious. Also, I want him to know that right now, _I_ am in charge.

Rai returns my gaze, and he is still very relaxed. He trusts me, I think—but I think he feels slightly strange without his eyepatch. I think he feels vulnerable without it. When a feeling of doubt flickers across his face, I kiss his right eyelid once again.

“You know,” I say, “I think you are beautiful. Perfect—just the way you are.”

Rai returns my words with a kiss—a passionate one, still covered in shampoo. I don’t mind at all. 

Once his hair is shampooed and rinsed, I condition it, carefully combing through the conditioner with a wide-toothed comb. Aoba told me that this helps detangle his hair, so I thought I would try it. The conditioner smells like my scent—like honey and orange blossom. I treated it myself earlier, using my song to do so.

As I’m working it through his hair, Rai’s pupil dilates again.

“What—what _is_ this? This scent?” he looks bewildered. It’s _adorable_.

I’m in the middle of massaging the conditioner into his ears, making them soft and supple.

“It’s my own concoction of conditioner for you. So in case you’re busy on deck tomorrow—I know you have a busy day with the ship casting off and all—if you don’t have time to see me, my scent will still be with you.” _And others will smell my scent on you_ —I do not say out loud.

I get on to soaping up his back, and I use a cloth to scrub him down—firmly but gently. It’s so nice to touch his body like this. He is purring and relaxed, but I can tell he is getting a little excited. I also clean his chest, his legs, and feet, and then I say, “Rai, please, I’d like to shampoo and condition your tail as well.”

“My tail?” He is hesitant. I knew he would be.

“Please, Rai, I love your tail, and it would make me so happy to be able to take care of your tail.”

He looks terribly uncomfortable. I do not care.

“I’m very sensitive about how my tail is touched.”

“I know, and I will be very careful. I am as well, so I will take care of you. Rai, won’t you please let me do this for you?”

And just like magic, he suddenly makes that surprised sound again— _uwaa—it’s so cute I can hardly stand it!_ —and offers his tail to me. In fact, he turns around in the bath, standing up on his knees, so I can reach it.

It really works! I only have to use his name three times.

“Siren, what have you done to me? Did you put something in the sake?” Rai asks, suspicious now, turning his head over his shoulder and glaring at me.

“Nothing out of the ordinary—and that was just regular sake. Why?” I coo happily, attacking Rai’s gorgeous white tail with shampoo, massaging it with abandon, as he grips the sides of the bathtub.

“Not so… rough!” Rai almost shouts at me.

“Oh—I’m so sorry,” I apologize, remembering all the times _I’ve_ been roughly groomed or held down when I was overly sensitive and protesting—but today, I _do_ slow down, for his sake, massaging his tail more gently. “You will be so beautiful after this. Not that people _already_ can’t take their eyes off of you. It’s enough to drive a person crazy with jealousy,” I mumble quietly.

Rai chuckles a little, while I rinse the shampoo in the water. Now—for the conditioning.

“You get _jealous_ , little one?”

“Of course I do!” I’m combing the conditioner through his fur and with each stroke of the comb, I see small shivers going through the silver cat’s lower back, creeping up higher and higher. By the time I reach the tip of his tail, even his shoulders are shivering. I know he wants to talk more about my jealousy—but I see him struggling to fight with the shivers my treatment of his tail is causing.

“Are you cold?” I ask in my softest, most gentle voice. I know he isn’t. I know he’s turned on beyond belief because of what I’m doing to his tail.

“Um, no,” Rai’s voice is strangely hoarse, but he has not stopped me nor has he resisted me in any way. “What have you _done_ to me?” 

“Not a thing,” I say innocently, “except comb conditioner through your beautiful tail. It’s going to be so shiny and pretty now—and it will smell so good when you groom it. You’re going to think of me when you groom yourself.” I smile, thinking of how clever I am.

“Konoe,” Rai starts, and I think he wants to lecture me, so I interrupt quickly.

“Let’s rinse you now. I have fresh water, too.”

“Don’t you want to bathe?”

“I did all that earlier—I showered before I came to find you. This is just for _you_ tonight,” I say, climbing out of the tub. I wrap a towel around my waist, drying off so I don’t drip everywhere.

The staff has left several jugs of clean water for rinsing, just as I asked. They were steaming when they were brought in—near boiling. Their temperature now is just nice and hot. Perfect for rinsing.

“Lean your head back, please, and I’ll rinse your hair.”

I rinse all the remaining bathwater from Rai’s beautiful hair, leaving it squeaky clean. I also pay special attention to his tail. Then, I allow him to use the rest of the water on his body, since he is too tall for me to reach when he stands at his full height. He still is wearing that relaxed, young face, and he is absolutely adorable.

I hand him two towels, one for his body, and one for his hair, and I help dry him off.

“Let me comb out your hair,” I say gently. “Come.”

I bring him to the bed, where I have him sit, and I kneel behind him, and I start at the ends of his hair and work my way up to the roots, working in small sections. The conditioner has really helped, and he is purring contentedly when I’m finished.

“Perhaps I _will_ hand over the job to you,” Rai whispers when I set the comb aside.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “Or would you like some more sake?”

“Perhaps another sip of sake. It’s so nice after a bath.”

While Rai is sitting up on the edge of the bed, I obediently bring him a cup and the flask and, standing in front of his knees, I pour him another cup, which he holds over his lap. I spill just a small drop—which lands directly on his bare thigh—and I have spilled it  _deliberately_. He flinches slightly from the cold—he knows I’m not _that_ clumsy—and he looks up at me suspiciously.

“Oh—I’m so sorry. I seem to have spilled,” I say, exaggeratedly.

Keeping my eyes on his face, I slowly lean down, bending at the waist, swaying my tail and hips back and forth provocatively, I stick my tongue out as far as it will go to lick his thigh, right where I spilled the sake. Also, I might lick a little more than I need to on the inside of his thigh.

He is quite surprised, but he doesn’t exactly look displeased. 

Then, I put my hands on his hand—the one holding his cup of sake—and I spill a little more sake from his cup—this time onto this chest, which, of course, drips down onto his stomach. The chill from the liquor makes him flinch, and his stomach curves inward and he looks up at me in surprise again.

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, no,” I say, in the same exaggerated voice. “I seem to have spilled _again_. Let me get that for you.”

I can’t quite keep my eyes on him in this position, but I can keep my ass and hips swaying provocatively, like my tail is, and I climb into his lap and lick the trail of sake that has spilled down his chest—and I lick it thoroughly—so not a trace of it can be found.

“Uh—oh, my gods,” Rai murmurs, and a small sigh escapes his mouth, one I notice he has failed to suppress. “What has come over you today? This behavior reminds me of when you were in heat! What are you doing?”

“I’m so sorry,” I say again. “I’m just terribly clumsy!” I take his sake and spill a little more onto his legs, and he gives a little yelp.

“Stop it!” Rai says—and he has _never_ told me to stop anything—not in the bedroom, at least. I am _thrilled_. A shiver visibly travels up my spine and out my swaying hips and tail, and I’m delighted. Usually, I’m the one yelling at him to stop—and this reversal is ever so pleasing. I’m starting to understand why he is unable to stop. A tiny bit of a dark feeling fills my chest. Is this what _he_ feels like?

“I can’t help it—I don’t know _what’s_ wrong with me—I’m just awfully clumsy,” I murmur softly, pressing my nose and lips to his thigh this time, starting to lick it up again. I roughly grab the towel covering Rai’s waist and start to pull it off. “I should move this—I think some dripped underneath—and you’ll be sticky if I don’t get it all.”

“That’s going to be the very _least_ of my problems,” Rai says, and he takes the remaining sake in the cup and gulps it all down in a single swallow. 

“Oy,” I say, looking up at him, slightly disappointed. “You’ve ruined my fun!”

“What is _up_ with you today?” Rai is slightly amazed, but not angry. “Is there something you _want_ from me? I have to confess, you are frightening me, if only just a little.”

“Am I? Perhaps you _should_ be afraid.” I climb up onto Rai’s lap again. “I could _devour_ you right now, but I still want to comb out the fur on your tail."

"What?" Rai looks more than a little terrified now. "You'll do no such thing. My tail is fine. Keep that comb away from my tail."

"But what if I did? Would you _punish_ me? Would you _spank_ me if I did?" I can't keep the teasing tone from my sexy voice.

"Konoe—"

"You are so beautiful—and you smell so good, simply irresistible to me. I could detect your scent today in the hallway, even, while you were meeting with the crew. When I went to find you, it was like you were the only one in the room. I could have just attacked you right there, in front of everyone. I wanted to strip off my clothes right then and there. Would you have _allowed_ it? Would you have _punished_ me? _Disciplined_ me in front of them? _Spanked_ me in front of them?”

Rai looks at me with his adorably shocked face again.

“Are you going to punish me for spilling your sake, perhaps? Maybe that would teach me a _lesson_ to be more careful. Even though I was so _good_ about cleaning it up for you—perhaps you have forgiven me for cleaning it up? Was that good enough for you? Was I good enough to earn your forgiveness? Or do you still feel the _need_ to punish me?”

I realize my voice sounds like someone else’s—a mix of my own and the Siren’s. I’m sure it’s shocking—and I am deliberately teasing Rai about liking to have control over me. I’m also playing with him, offering myself to him—offering to let him take control if he likes—offering him a discipline session if he likes.

“If you spank me, though,” I look up at him through my lashes again, “I want it to feel good. I want you to use your _hand_ , Rai. No belts this time, Rai—your _hand_. And I want it to feel _good_ , like you did last time. And only if you want to. You don’t have to, of course. I just thought I’d offer. But if you do, it will be with your _hand_ , Rai.” 

Three times. With his _name_. That should do it. And I see him shiver a little—so I know he “heard my request” or whatever that is. He’s surprised and taken aback, and this time, he meets my gaze with a serious face.

“What?” I ask, a little provocatively. I’m still wearing just my towel, but it’s very low and loose around my hips, and my tail is still swaying back and forth slowly. It’s close to falling off, especially the way I’m moving around and pressing myself against his lap.

He takes my chin in his hand and points my face directly at his, holding me still for a moment. He places his other hand on my shoulder, pressing me down into his lap, forcing me to stop my movement.

“What are you doing? What have you done to me, Siren? What have you done to me, Konoe? Have you learned a new trick, Konoe? Tell me what it is.”

He’s commanded me. I probably could have foreseen this, but I was thinking too much about sex, I suppose. I don’t really want to tell him, so at first, I press my lips together.

He watches me resist, and he smiles.

“Look at how you resist me—watch how you try to resist your master! Such a disobedient kitten—and so adorable! But you cannot, can you?” His voice has dropped into his familiar sexy bedroom tone, the _commanding_ one. It slides into my ears and seems to pool in my hips in the form of desire. And my lips suddenly loosen.

“Aoba told me—if I beg you—if I request something of you, using your name at least three times, it works in a similar way to that command you have over me. I’m using it to make a point.”

Huh? Wait— _what point_? What point _am_ I trying to make? And who the fuck said that part? Where the fuck did that even come from? 

“What point are you trying to make, exactly?” Shit. Now he just asked me about it!

“Um, uh, I-I d-don’t know. I don’t kn-now why I said that,” I stammer desperately. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, hoping he will forget about it and move on. 

“So sweet—gods, even disobedient and disorderly, manipulative—you are irresistible—everything about you is simply irresistible,” he murmurs, and I feel his large hands brushing my ears. Then, it comes. He says my name again. “Konoe.”

My body braces itself for his command—I feel it coming and it’s like my body is preparing itself to obey him. Could he command me to hurt myself, I wonder? A small shiver goes through my body. 

“What point were you trying to make?”

Again, I press my lips together, because even if I did know the answer to this, I don’t think I’d _want_ to confess. But I can’t resist any order from him and my mouth opens on its own, words tumbling out, one right after the other. Even _I’m_ surprised to hear them. 

“I wanted you to feel what I feel. I wanted you to experience what I experience. And I wanted you to see the truth—that even if you can command me—command and control this body—you are _not_ actually in control here. You are my _prey_. I marked you—that mist? Many years ago when I healed you, I _marked_ you with that mist.” 

“What?” Rai’s eye opens wide.

“It has an addictive quality to it. You would never be able to forget me if you were exposed to it. You searched for me all those years because I healed you with that mist. I just marked you again—to deepen our bond. It’s healing, yes, but that is _not_ its primary purpose. You will be mine— _for life_.”

“You make it sound like you will kill me, Konoe.” Rai attempts to say these words with a little bit of humor in his tone. 

“You’ve read a lot about my kind, haven’t you?” I ask. “Haven’t you read that Sirens suck the vitality and life out of their prey? That isn’t entirely a lie. You will have no choice but to remain by my side for the remainder of your life—because of my healing touch.”  
  
I reach out and touch my silver captain, gently touching his face with both my hands. 

“You are _mine_. You may call me your slave, if you like. You may pierce me. You may ‘discipline’ me. You may try to control me while we’re in the bedroom. You may try to punish me in front of your crew—if any of that makes you _feel_ better. But while you may think _I_ am _your_ slave, _you_ are _mine_. You are my _prey_ , my beautiful and perfect silver captain.”

Smiling slightly, I draw my claws on both hands and without scratching him, I drag them down his cheek, his jaw, his throat—which is exposed to me—here and now—and his chest. I watch as this giant silver beast of a cat shivers before me. I drag my hands all the way down to his belly to the soft fur below his navel. My voice softens even more.

“I will treat you well, my lovely prey. I will love you for the rest of your life. I’ll fuck you—and let you fuck me—till you can’t walk straight. I would _kill_ for you. You brought me forth, you know—and _this_ is what you were searching for, what _you_ asked for, and so here I am. I will play whatever games you like in the bedroom.” With my left hand, I tug the chain between my piercings, watching his pupil blow wide for a moment. “But I want _one_ _thing_ to be clear to you. And that, my dear captain, is that _I_ chose _you_. And you will never be rid of me. Not till _death_ do us part. Do you understand? I may, in fact, suck some of your vitality out of you, but I will also suck other things from you—including your pain, as I have just done—and I might also be persuaded to suck other actual vital fluids from your body.”

With this rather bold statement, I drop my right hand even lower and palm his groin. He is erect—waiting for me to touch him, eager for me, desirous of my body in some fashion, perhaps in more than one fashion. He _needs_ me and _wants_ me— _now_. And that feels _good_.

“I’m sure you know this by now, but that ‘marking’ has created a need, a desire, in you—you actually _need_ my touch, and you will crave it. You are mine—body and soul. You have no choice in the matter.”

I look directly at his face again—after having examined his fine body so closely—which is currently very ripe and ready for me.

“So. Does that answer your question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Konoe is spending the last afternoon at the onsen in his room on the pout. He is irritated with his lack of power in his relationship with Rai--and comes up with an idea.
> 
> He recruits help from Aoba--and gets all dolled up, with Aoba's help and sexiness--and learns a few tricks about walking and talking and faking it till you make it--and also has some help setting up his bedroom with a private hot bath and food and alcohol.
> 
> Then, he goes on the prowl for Rai, who is trying to have a meeting with the crew, getting last-minute preparations for their department ready. Sure enough, Aoba has taught him well, and Konoe the Siren captures everyone's eye when he enters the room. He tells Rai, oh sorry to interrupt, but I was lonely and I missed your scent and starts rubbing on him during the meeting. Rai tries finishing the meeting, ending up cutting it off early.
> 
> He is slightly suspicious of Konoe's behavior but follows him to the bedroom, where he is delighted to find a treat waiting for him. Konoe gets him into the bath, where he tenderly washes his hair and scrubs his bath, and feeds him some sake. But not before he sings for his pain--and breathes his magic marking steam into him again. That siren mist apparently not only heals but its actual purpose is to mark prey. Rai apparently was marked long ago, when he first met Konoe, and therefore, has been looking for Konoe ever since. 
> 
> He also uses that trick he learned--about asking Rai to do something three times and using his name (yeah, it's magic, people), and it works. He gets to shampoo Rai's tail this way, which Rai is very sensitive about--he says--meaning, he doesn't really want to get quite so worked up right like this.
> 
> Rai doesn't quite get what's going on but understands something is up. When he gets out of the tub, Konoe combs his hair and then offers him some more sake, which he deliberately spills on him. But he's nice about it--licking it off of him and all. Rai doesn't mind, but he realizes something is seriously up--especially when Konoe climbs on top of him and starts teasing him about punishing him for spilling the sake. He says, "You can spank me if you want, but use your hand, not a belt." And he says it three times, and Rai feels something change in him.
> 
> That's when he commands Konoe to tell him what new trick he learned. Konoe has been slightly distracted, thinking a lot about sex, and the fact that he "owns" Rai--he is his prey, after all--and is terribly empowered. Konoe has to tell him, and then also ends up telling him all about Rai being the prey--and basically saying that while Rai may think he "owns" Konoe, Rai never even had a chance. Konoe was the one who originally marked him. And Rai will be stuck with him now for the rest of his life--that's where the legend of Sirens sucking the vitality out of their prey comes from because that's usually what happens. They do tend to outlive their prey, after all, they are magical creatures. Konoe doesn't miss his chance to repeat a few dominating moves that have been used on him (rough grooming, mild claw play), just to get his point across. And I think Rai gets it.
> 
> Does that answer your question, Rai?
> 
> So--that's where this part ends. :) I'm excited to see what happens when they next have sex! God, they might kill each other, for all I know, but I think they are just too horny for that.


End file.
